Love Child
by the ramblin rose
Summary: She has a troubled past that she can't always recall. He loves her for her present and together they focus on their future. What will they do when the past returns from where it is buried and they must deal with it to continue with their lives? Caryl story. Rated M for a adult situations, sexual situations, language, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So this is all liveinadive's fault for the prompt…she knew what would happen. **

**And by that I mean my thanks for this prompt goes to liveinadive, whether or not it will be what she wants it to be. ;-)**

**This is a "time" piece, which means that there will be some practices/beliefs/etc. that I don't necessarily agree with, but I'm expressing certain beliefs that people do hold.**

**I do not claim this to be historically accurate and in many places I'll be taking poetic license so it shouldn't be taken too literally. It is simply a work of fiction for entertainment purposes and should be taken as such. **

**It will be a Caryl story, so if that's not your thing, stop reading now. There will be quite a few time jumps in this story, but I'll try to make sure that they're carefully marked to avoid any confusion. Characters will be somewhat "OOC" to go with the situation that they are being placed in. **

**I'll be updating sporadically and when and where I'm inspired to do so. **

**If you read this, I hope you enjoy! This one will be getting started kind of slowly and it will probably be quite different than anything I have done. **

**And if it needs to be said, I own nothing from The Walking Dead.**

**Let me know what you think! **

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She looked at her lap again, it was the only place that she'd felt comfortable looking for any extended amount of time since she'd gotten into the car. Her finger now was bare of the small chip of a diamond that she'd worn with pride for the last six months…the chip of a diamond that had promised that she would be married to the man that she loved.

The very man who had put the diamond on her finger and had taken it off, four days before, so that the band wouldn't leave a mark there. The band wouldn't leave the telltale indention that anyone even intended to marry her.

She loved him, and she lived in a world where she had very few people to love.

But now she had shamed him, and he'd made sure that she knew it…he'd made sure she knew how angry he was at her.

But he'd left no mark on her face, and he'd left no mark that couldn't be explained by her endlessly clumsy nature. She was always falling down, stumbling, tripping…running into things. She was terribly clumsly, almost to a fault…except that she could no longer remember how many times she'd actually suffered from the clumsiness and how many times it had simply been used to cover up when he'd corrected her for doing something wrong, something that she didn't have the raising to know that she shouldn't do or that she should do differently.

And she was thankful to him for his corrections because he was shaping her into being a proper wife for him. He was teaching her what she needed to know to be the woman that he would spend the rest of his life with…the woman that would keep his house and mother his children.

She was only a few months shy of sixteen years old.

She had lived with Mr. Edward Peletier Sr. and his wife for almost a year. They'd taken her in as an act of charity when her father had passed away and she was left, with no direct next of kin, with little choice of where to go in life and what to do.

Her mother had passed at a time in her life that she no longer retained any memory of the woman. She had one photograph of her mother, and sometimes that was the face that she saw in her memory when she tried to bring the woman that had given her life to the forefront, but she feared that now it wasn't a true memory of the woman at all, rather it was a memory of her photograph and nothing more.

Her father had been a heavy drinker, but always a kind and just man from what she'd known of him. He'd worked to make sure that they got by, and they did get by, but there was little left over when the necessities were met.

But Mr. Edward Peletier Sr. and Mrs. Peletier had taken her in and she was eternally grateful to them for that because she had no idea where she might have ended up otherwise.

And Ed, the son of the couple, had taken something of a shine to her, and he promised to marry her when she turned sixteen and he could do so without anyone having anything to say about it, not that anyone in town was really concerned with Carol's fate. They hadn't been before.

They would have a home, a small two-bedroom starter that Mr. Edward Peletier Sr. was helping his son purchase, even though he wasn't entirely supportive of the union, and Ed would work with his father, bringing in, before too long, more money than they even needed to survive. He would make, like his father, enough money to be well to do.

And that was why his father wasn't particularly mad about the idea that his only son was planning on marrying Carol Ann McAlister, an ugly girl with nothing much to offer him on any front.

So she would have to work that much harder to prove to them that she was a suitable wife. That she'd be able to be everything that he wanted her to be, that she'd be worthy of him and worthy to carry his name and carry his children.

And she was thankful to Ed that he was already teaching her the things that she needed to know and teaching her not to overstep herself…teaching her to behave properly where she might not have learned it before from her father. She had learned a lot from him, and she knew that she still had a good deal to learn.

"Ed," she said softly, still looking at her hands folded in her lap, "we could marry early…"

"Marry you before your sixteen? In some kind of shotgun wedding?" Ed spat as he drove his father's car along the almost abandoned road. "We don't need some kind of scandal…some little wretch ruining the family name. Do you even know what that would do to my father's business? To his name? It would ruin every one of us…you're not worth something like that."

Carol didn't protest. She knew it was true. She wasn't even sure what Mr. Edward Peletier Sr. did for a living, but she did know that his reputation was important in town. That was why he was bothered that his son had gone and proposed to her…that his son was going to bring into the family a woman that wasn't worthy of the family name.

"We could wait, like we planned," Carol said. "Two months isn't that long and when he's born we can say that he came early. No one has to know."

Ed chuckled ironically. He moved one of his hands from the steering wheel and Carol flinched as something of a natural reaction to the movement. He didn't reach out toward her in any way, though, he simply rubbed at his face.

"My family has done a hell of a lot, Carol Ann, to become what they are," Ed said. "A bastard kid is the last thing they need. No one is going to believe the kid came early and you're already fat enough that people are going to start to talk about you being the little whore that everyone knew you would be."

Carol forced herself to swallow.

"He's your baby…you know that Ed," Carol said.

Ed had convinced her that it would be fine...that it was something that he expected of her…to do her _duty_ to him as a wife. Even before they were married, it wouldn't matter because they'd be married as soon as they could be without causing people to talk too much.

And she'd gladly given to him what was his. She loved him and she dreamed of the day that she could, as his wife, give to him everything he wanted from her, so giving him what was his early hadn't even occurred to her to be problematic.

Because they were to be married, and she had the ring to prove it.

Ed shook his head at her and at the situation.

"You'd ruin me from the start! You'd shame me and the child too! We'd never recover from this," Ed declared. "My father…you know what he wants me to do? He wants me to send you away for good…you're lucky that I love you enough to pretend that you're going to visit some mythological aunt before you marry. You're lucky that I'm pretending that you've got somewhere to go and not that you're off having some bastard child that you went and got knocked up with before you got married! You're lucky I don't just leave your ass there!"

Carol didn't respond. She rode in silence until he pulled into the roundabout in front of the brick building that looked like something crossed between a school and a hospital.

She stayed in the car, looking at her bare fingers in her lap, until Ed had gotten out of the car and gotten her suitcase out the back of the car.

He opened the car door and huffed at her.

"Are you getting out?" He barked. "Stop dawdling, Carol Ann!"

Carol got out of the car, her heart thundering in her chest and her feelings rising up in her throat, but she fought through the tears because Ed didn't care for tears at all…and she didn't want to do anything that would make him think, especially after she'd gone and done something so terrible as to end up pregnant before it was time, that he was making a mistake by marrying her.

Carol stood facing him, wringing the same hands she'd been examining in the car.

"You're going to come back for me, right Ed?" She asked. "You are coming back…when it's not a problem anymore?"

Ed looked at her, his jaw flinching slightly and he nodded.

He reached and pulled her to him and she sunk into his body, gratefully accepting the kiss that he planted on her lips. He rubbed his hand over her hair.

"I'm coming back…just take care of the problem," Ed said.

"I'm sorry…" Carol offered.

"You'll make it up to me later," Ed said. "Come on…let's get you signed in."

Carol nodded her head, unable to find the words, and she followed him as he carried her suitcase into the building.

When they got to the desk, Carol stood to the side, her hands still wringing together, while Ed signed her in. She'd leave it to him since he was more suited to handle such things. He was the one that knew what to say. And he was the one that knew how to handle these things in the most delicate way possible.

And he was right. She tried to convince herself that he was right.

No one would believe that the child was conceived after they married and it would ruin them…and the child would be better off with someone else. He would be better off with a family that was prepared to have him, a family that he wouldn't bring any kind of shame to. He would be much, much better off.

And Ed had promised that one day, when they were married and more financially stable without the support of his father, they would have children that they could keep…as many as she wanted…a house full of strapping boys that carried their father's name, maybe a girl for her as well.

Ed was right and this was for the best. This is what she had to do to prove to him that she loved him…to prove to him that she was the type of woman that he wanted to make his wife, even if she really didn't deserve to be married to him.

Carol could only half listen to the things that were said to her. It didn't matter anyway…Ed had handled everything. He knew the way that things were supposed to go. He had taken care of everything. She wasn't going to question his decision. It was the best for both of them…the best for all of them.

She signed the papers offered to her, gave the best smile that she could to the woman in the white uniform and before she went with the man who came for her luggage, she turned to Ed who was standing, passing the key to his father's car from one hand to another.

"You'll write to me?" She asked.

He nodded slightly.

"Just take care of it," he said.

Carol nodded.

"You'll be back?" She asked.

He nodded again, but he didn't say anything else. It wouldn't be proper to have a show of affection…those were for private spaces, not for others to see. He'd taught her that already. Affection wasn't a public affair…their relationship wasn't a public affair.

Carol watched as he turned and walked out of the building, not looking back, and she turned to follow the man who had taken her luggage, sucking in a breath and reminding herself that this was the best thing…this was the only thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Here we go, another short chapter.**

**The next chapter will come with a time jump (that will be marked) and will take us to a slightly different place in this story. I guess you could say this is laying some ground work.**

**Someone asked about the time period. These two chapters are set in the 1940's, though I'm not exact on the date. Again, some things may not be correct, but this is simply for entertainment value and should not be taken for fact.**

**Thank you all for your kind comments so far. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. As always, there's a good deal to work with and I'm excited to work with characterizations and a plot that I've never worked with before. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Carol sat on the creaking, rattling bed that was her space in this home. One bed, one table, one small dresser…it summed up just about everything she had, but then she'd never had all that much.

She ran her hand over the swell of her belly.

Even though she knew it would never be so, she imagined sometimes what it would be like when she held the little one in her arms. She imagined his little face…his soft skin…the warm weight in her arms. She imagined what it would be like if she'd already been married and they could keep him…if he could be their pride and joy inside of a shameful mistake that she'd made.

She imagined, to kill the time while she waited out the final days for the pains to start to say that she'd ended her stay her, what it might be like…what it would be like when she was allowed to be the proud, loving mother that she longed to be.

She imagined dressing him up in his best clothes for Easter Sunday and showing him off like the doll that he would be. She imagined his first day of school and going to watch him play at sports where he'd be, no doubt, the best player on the team, far beyond his other teammates.

But he'd be humble and kind and he'd never rub it in anyone's face that he was better than them…because he would be a good boy. He would be her wonderful little boy.

Except…this baby would be someone else's wonderful little boy because she'd failed him and she'd fallen pregnant with him too early, too soon. She had nothing to offer him, so she had to hope that he would go to a family that could offer him everything that she couldn't…that he would go to a family that would recognize how wonderful he was and love him for it in all the ways that she would never be able to.

She talked to the child, even though he couldn't hear her. She told him why she was here…she told him why this was the best for him. She asked him to understand.

And she wrote, carefully and revising it time and time again, a letter that might explain it to him if he was ever given the chance to read it.

Ed had written her once, despite the fact that she'd written him every week since he'd left her there. She'd read the letter enough to make the edges of the paper soft and to wear the envelope as well.

It didn't say much. He loved her. His family was angry and disappointed. He still forgave her, but she would have a good deal of work to do to convince the Peletier family that she was worthy of their son…she would have a good deal of work to do to restore anything of a reputation that she'd ever had in their eyes, if it could be restored.

But Ed forgave her, and he would give her the chance to make up for it. He would give her the chance to prove that she deserved the faith that he put in her and she deserved his affections.

And she would earn back his trust…she would earn his love.

She only hoped that the child would forgive her for what she had to do…that one day he would know that she did it because it was best for him. It was best for them all.

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She could hear his cries, even over the pounding of her own blood in her ears…even through the cloud of pain that hadn't passed…she could hear him crying, and she could hear the cries already growing distant.

"I want to hold him…let me see him," Carol got out, but her words fell on deaf ears. "I want to see him…"

But she wouldn't see him because she had signed the papers not to see him. She wouldn't see him because it was best for her not to see him. There was no need, after all, to ever let your eyes fall on something that you would never have…something that you couldn't have.

Soon she couldn't even hear his cries any longer…the only cries that she could hear were those that were her own. She could hear those and the mumbled "comfort" offered by the nurses around her. She could hear the promises that it was for the best, the promises that the baby would be better off.

She could hear the whispered promises that she'd done what she should do, what she had to do.

Because even as her body still throbbed and cramped with the memory of him, the memory of the child that she'd known inside her for nine months but never known beyond that, he was gone from her.

It was better just to let him go.

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"He was phoned?" Carol asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she stood there, her suitcase off to the side and waiting on her.

"Yes Ms. McAlister," the nurse-receptionist said. "Three hours ago and then once an hour and a half ago."

The orderly who had come once, twice, three times to offer to take her bag out to the curb for her, came for what would be the final time. She was being evicted.

Somewhere there was a child that was three days old…somewhere there was a child that was never hers to begin with, a child that had been taken from her before she'd even had a chance to know it, a child she'd never even known completely because she'd known, from the time that she'd even been aware of his presence, that he would never be hers.

Because she loved a man who couldn't love the child. She loved a man who didn't want a bastard child born out wedlock…whether or not it was his child and he'd traded the child for his future wife's virginity.

She loved him and she'd given up the child because it was what she had to do. She had given up the child for his future and for hers.

And somewhere that child was headed toward his future while she was supposed to be waiting for the man that she loved to pick her up so that they could begin to pick up the pieces of their lives and start, properly married, with their life the way that it was supposed to be.

Except that Ed hadn't arrived yet.

"Was there an answer? Can someone ring again?" Carol asked.

"Ms. McAlister, may I call you a taxi?" The receptionist asked.

"He's coming…" Carol protested. "He just needed to know when to come and get me…I have a letter from him…he promised that he would come when it was time…he's coming…"

But seeing that he wasn't there yet, Carol began to grow upset, no matter how she tried to swallow it down.

The man who had hovered to take her bag out, finally did so, and she turned, hovering somewhere between the door and the desk where the woman who was growing tired of her and vexes was waiting for her to leave.

"Mrs. McAlister…let me call you a taxi? Your family? Some other kin that I can notify?" The woman's voice rang out.

Carol shook her head, still standing there.

There was no one to call.

She had no one to call. She only had the Peletier's to call…Ed would be the only one that was concerned with where she was or what had become of her after the "problem" had been "taken care of". There wasn't anyone else.

And somewhere there was a child that was going on to a better life…a child that she couldn't take care of, not when she needed someone else to take care of her. Not when she was counting on the man that she loved to come for her and take her home…counting on him to come and get her so that she could begin to make up to him what she had done.

But, she realized, he wasn't coming.

Carol shook her head again. She couldn't accept that he wasn't coming. He had to come. He had promised that he loved her. He had promised that he would come and would give her the chance to make up for the shame that she might have caused him, something that she would live with for the rest of her life.

She mumbled to the receptionist that there was no one else. She mumbled that she didn't want a taxi to be called, it wouldn't have anywhere to go.

She begged again that the woman ring…that she try to get ahold of Mr. Edward Peletier Sr. She would wait for him to come.

And she went out to sit beside her bag, her body not feeling like her own…her mind feeling even less so like her own.

She would wait there until he came, she had nothing else to do. She had nothing left in the world and she had nothing to offer anyone.

So she would simply have to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter to keep moving along. Slowly but surely. I have to get part of this out because the story is driving me crazy…then I'm sure that updates here will slow down.**

**I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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**FOUR YEARS LATER**

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Daryl had only been working a few months at Sunny Meadows, but he was finally feeling settled into his job. He was finally feeling like he had a good feel for the place, not that it took long to get a feel for any of these places.

For all their natural and happy names…for all their nicely decorated courtyards and places designed for the show and benefit of the visitors…they were all the same and behind the scenes there appeared, at least to Daryl, to be very little that was natural and even less that was picturesque.

He made is rounds in the company of another man that worked there, Axel, and today he was getting to branch out some…getting to travel to another wing of the institution, a wing that he hadn't visited yet.

"These ones…these are the sad ones in my opinion," Axel muttered as he walked through the quiet halls with Daryl at his side.

Daryl glanced around.

"You mean to say you think anyone in here ain't a sad case?" Daryl asked.

"These are the lifers…doin' time until they run out," Axel said.

He shook his head as though he wanted to further express the gravity of the situation…as though the thought enough wasn't something that would let Daryl know how bad a situation it was.

"You mean they don't never get out?" Daryl asked. "Just stay here forever?"

Axel nodded, stopping and stepping to the side so that he could speak a moment with Daryl before they continued through.

"Most of 'em in here don't have families," Axel said. "Nobody cares if they get better or they don't…so they just stay here. Ain't nowhere else to send them…sad situations. I reckon the best part of it is that most of 'em…they don't know they're here, they don't care to leave…they don't know how pathetic their lives are."

Daryl frowned and shook his head to himself.

It seemed horrible to think that there were people that would be in a place like this and not care to get out…though he'd seen some real nut jobs in just the short time that he'd been working there, so he wasn't surprised entirely.

The worst thing, perhaps, was to think that they had no one.

Because he could have been in the same boat, if it weren't for his brother. There really wasn't anyone else that he could say would have given one damn where he was if he was trapped inside a place like this…trapped inside some unreachable place in his mind.

"It's a shame," Daryl said, following after Axel who had picked up his steps again, heading into the first of the rooms.

Axel sucked his teeth in response and directed Daryl to the rooms that he would take to clean in the short amount of time while the residents of the room were at "recess" for a short time.

Daryl nodded his head and made his way into the room, stopped immediately by the realization that he wasn't in there alone. There was at least one patient who hadn't made it to recess as she was supposed to.

Daryl cleared his throat and the young woman looked at him, tipping her head to the side before offering him something of a shy smile.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Daryl offered. "You're supposed to be outside."

The woman, sitting on the bed he assumed to be hers, her hands folded in her lap, shook her head gently.

"I don't want to be outside," she said. "I came back in. I prefer to stay here…"

Daryl shook his head, biting his lip to avoid a chuckle, and shook his head again.

"Don't work like that," he said. "Here…lemme walk with ya? OK? I'll walk you outside. It's a pretty day…you'll like the sun."

The young woman looked at him, but she didn't make any move to get off the bed and Daryl walked toward her, hoping that he could convince her to come without having to use any of the methods of "force" that they had for the patients who simply didn't cooperate with things.

Daryl held a hand out to her.

"I'm Daryl," he said.

She looked at him intensely enough that Daryl was almost taken aback. Many of the patients in here would avoid your eyes at all costs. They would turn their heads, even, from side to side, to keep from connecting their eyes directly with yours.

But she held her blue eyes steady on his.

And they were beautiful eyes…beautiful eyes in the beautiful face of a woman that Daryl couldn't imagine was even his age. So unlike the others that he'd seen here.

Daryl cleared his throat and waved the hand slightly that he'd offered to her.

"Walk with me?" He asked.

He noticed that in her hand she held a book, though he didn't bother to examine the thing for any length of time. He gestured toward it with his head.

"You can take ya book with ya…read in the sun," he said. "It's a real nice day for that…"

The woman seemed to consider it and with a move of his hand to reach down and coax her hand to join with his, she accepted his hand and stood, book firmly in the grasp of her other hand. He smiled to himself. There was always something satisfying about getting one of them to comply.

"Come on…we'll go out…just a little while. Sun's good for you, healthy," Daryl said.

She moved beside him, slipping her arm through his as though they were going to stroll, and Daryl decided not to argue with the suggestion. Strolling calmly through the halls with a beautiful woman, even if she was a patient, was far preferable to dragging her out through other means.

"Carol Ann," Carol said finally. "That's my name…Carol Ann."

Daryl smiled to himself.

"Pretty name," he said.

They passed Axel in the hallway and Daryl nodded a head at him.

"I'm walkin' her outside," Daryl said. Axel nodded his head at him.

And as they made their way outside, Carol walking quietly and loosely at his side, Daryl found it hard to imagine that this beautiful young woman leaning on his arm was someone who was crazy…someone who belonged in an establishment like this…someone who deserved to spend the rest of her life, however long that might be, closed up tight behind these walls.

It was easy to forget that she was supposed to be a patient.

When they reached the courtyard area, the place where she would be better off to spend her time while he did his work in her room, Daryl moved his arm from hers and she stopped, standing in front of him, the book she carried curled now under the other arm.

"You should find a nice spot," Daryl directed. "Like over there…under that tree…read ya book. It's a nice day."

Carol looked around and then back at him.

"I'd rather go back inside," she said. "It's hot…and I don't care for the bugs."

Daryl almost laughed at the irony of it because, given the circumstances, he thought that was a perfectly sane reason to not want to be forced into the outdoor recreation.

He shook his head lightly at her.

"But it's better to get some sun," he said. "Besides…they keep bringing you outside an' you ain't gonna like how they bring you out here. It's better…ya know? It's better ta do it on your own than to get brought out again."

Carol smiled.

"If you weren't working," Carol said, swaying a little as she stood in place, "then I would ask you if you wanted to take a walk with me…around the yard."

Daryl smiled in spite of himself, feeling his cheeks burning hot. He'd never been really good with women, and especially not beautiful women, and this woman was one of the most beautiful that he'd ever seen in his life.

He had to try hard to remind himself that he didn't know her…she was a patient in a mental asylum. There was more there than met the eye.

He cleared his throat.

"But I am workin'," he said. "You could take that walk on your own, though…it's a nice day for that too, Carol Ann."

She smiled and nodded at him before she turned without a word and strolled, because there wasn't any other word that Daryl had for her gait, off in the opposite direction, her book hugged to her chest.

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Daryl hadn't meant to snoop, exactly, but he'd lingered near the beautiful woman's area…Carol Ann's area…a little longer than he had to. She had, from what he could see, very little to call her own, but nothing there looked to him to be something that any young woman might not have had…not that Daryl knew too much about young women.

When he'd finished with her room he'd followed his assignments around to the other rooms and finished his day off just about five o'clock when he'd made his way to the locker rooms to change his clothes and get ready to go home.

On his way out the door, he caught the attention of one of the receptionists, a friendly woman that he had chatted with from to time since his arrival, and pulled her to the side.

She was unmarried, a bit over opinionated, and from what Daryl had discovered, only worked the job because she liked working, being a single woman, because her parents had enough money that she didn't truly have to work a day in her life.

"Alice," Daryl said, catching the woman's attention as she was checking her reflection in a compact mirror instead of doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing, "what information can you get me on a patient?"

"What for?" Alice asked, not putting her compact down.

"Curiosity," Daryl said. "Nothin' more…just curious."

She shrugged slightly and snapped the compact shut.

"Depends on who the patient is," Alice responded.

"Name's Carol Ann," Daryl said. "Young woman…lives over in the east wing…Axel says she's a lifer."

Alice hummed and nodded her head.

"I know who you're talking about," Alice said. "Lovely woman…"

Daryl nodded his head and Alice shook hers.

"She doesn't have anyone…no family," Alice said. "Never even had a visitor…she's been here for something like four or five years…"

"What's wrong with her?" Daryl asked.

"Oooohhh," Alice said, moving her body back a little. She shook her head. "I don't remember…I can't keep everyone straight…but,"

She leaned toward him and waggled her finger in his direction. Daryl leaned down on his elbows and leaned toward her so that she came close enough to meet him that he could feel her breath on his face.

"I can get you her file, no one so much as looks at those files anymore…not to the permanent ones," Alice said. "No problem…just…keep it between us?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"When?" He asked.

Allice shrugged.

"Give me ten minutes," she said. "Meet me out front…I've got a real craving for a burger…trade company for committing a crime?"

Daryl chuckled and nodded his head.

"Fair trade," he said. "Meet you out by your car."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl sat on the second hand couch in the small starter house that he called home and spread the information out in front of him on the coffee table. From time to time he remembered to flick the growing ashes off the end of his cigarette, but mostly he was wrapped up in what he was reading. He was consumed by trying to imagine…to wrap his mind around…the things that were presented in the files.

He would have to return the file to Alice by morning so that no one would notice that it was missing, so he was trying to take in all the information that he could in the amount of time that he could look over the file without either of them getting in trouble.

Carol Ann McAlister was, approximately, twenty years old…four years younger than Daryl was…and she'd already seen more than he could imagine squeezing into that amount of time.

She'd been admitted to Sunny Meadows four years prior following an "episode"…no next of kin…

Essentially Carol Ann McAlister was forgotten by the world, and according to her files, she may have even forgotten herself.

Daryl read through the information, unable to make heads or tails of most of it, unsure if whether it was the fact that he didn't understand the language or the fact that it was written in such a halfhearted manner. She didn't matter to anyone…and she didn't matter to Sunny Meadows.

Words popped out to Daryl, though, and they hung with him…words that he did understand even if he was unsure whether or not they were true…even if he was confused by their context.

Delusion…hysteria…psychotic break…

Hypnosis…electroshock therapy…

Amnesia…

Daryl rearranged the papers into the manila file folder and closed it on the table in front of him, squaring it thoughtfully before he sat back, balancing his ashtray on his knee and lit another cigarette.

He found work at a place like Sunny Meadows to be somewhat depressing…but he'd learned that most of the people who worked there, most of the people who had any compassion at all for people found it to be that way. There simply wasn't any other way to feel about it.

And the best thing that you could do, if you were going to work in such an establishment was learn to unplug. You had to learn to distance yourself. You had to learn to think of the people there as something a little less than people…you had to learn to think of them as hollow shells of people where only a diagnosis remained.

To survive working day in and day out with the situations that you could see in such lonely buildings with such happy names was simply to see them as nothing more than hollow shells.

You had to become hollow to them.

And Daryl was pretty good and growing better with every passing day at unplugging and not caring. He was getting better at seeing the people in pitiful and pathetic situations as something that he couldn't relate to, something he couldn't understand…even if he chose only to take that position.

Yet, for some reason this woman, this Carol Ann McAlister with her soulful eyes…this woman of twenty years of age that was forgotten by the whole human race, or so it seemed, wasn't someone that he could forget.

He believed that she was in there, despite what her records said…and he didn't even know himself why he cared.

But he did care.

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"My coffee?" Alice asked as a greeting when Daryl came walking toward where she was leaning against the fender of her car…or of the car she drove, whether it was hers or not Daryl didn't know for sure.

She was smoking a cigarette with the laziest efforts that Daryl had ever seen anyone puff on one of the long sticks.

He offered her the metal thermos of coffee that he'd brought her from his house…part of the deal for getting him the records and not ratting on him that he'd asked her to take them out for him.

She took it, smiling at him, and then she took the file folder and tucked it into the oversized bag that rested on the car hood beside her before she turned her attention back to the cigarette.

Daryl lit one of his own, knowing full well that he could finish the cigarette in the time that it took for her to finish the one that she'd already been smoking.

"So you can be trained," Alice said, raising an eyebrow at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her in confusion and she shook her head to dismiss the whole line of conversation.

"Thanks for the coffee…cream?" She said instead.

"Yeah…damn near white, just like you wanted," Daryl said.

Alice smiled.

"Did you find out what you were after?" She asked.

"I guess," Daryl responded. "What do ya know about her?"

Alice shrugged.

"Not too much…I mean I know the gossip, but not a lot of fact," Alice said.

She dropped her cigarette to the ground and ground it out with something like aggression before she burrowed in the large bag and came out with a leather cigarette case, removing another.

Daryl took the hint when she placed it between her lips and flicked his lighter open, lighting it for her.

"I'm just the lowly little receptionist…remember?" Alice said.

Daryl almost laughed.

"You say that like you pissed about it," Daryl said. "It's a good job…"

"It's a great job!" Alice said with a fake smile, the kind she plastered on for everyone that passed by her desk…the kind that faded once you knew her better.

"So…?" Daryl asked.

"So...I can't say it's a dream job," Alice said. "That would be a stretch…but what are you going to do? And I get more bored at home than I do here…so it's a necessary evil."

She curled a lip up.

"So what do you know about Carol Ann McAlister?" Daryl asked.

Alice shook her head.

"I wasn't here when she came in," Alice said. "But…I've heard that she had a child."

"Where's the kid now?" Daryl asked. "File said somethin' about it, but I could barely make head or tails with all that chicken scratch."

"Gave it up," Alice said. "From what I hear she lost her mind…went completely psychotic because her boyfriend didn't want her anymore…"

Daryl wrinkled his nose at the thought.

"Why'd she give her kid up?" Daryl asked.

Alice raised her eyebrows at him.

"Not every woman relishes being an unwed mother," Alice said.

She straightened up and dropped the second cigarette butt to join the first on the ground, crushed beneath her shoe. She lifted the heavy bag and the coffee mug and stared at Daryl.

"What's got you so interested in this woman?" Alice asked.

"What makes you so not interested?" Daryl asked.

Alice smiled and then she shrugged a little.

"It's the nature of the beast," she said. "You and me? We're underdogs here…we have nothing to offer anyone…we can't change their lives. I just book them in and out and hand out visitor information…you…what? Clean up after them? We're not changing the world, Daryl…so it's better not to even worry about it. There's nothing you can do about any of it anyway…"

Daryl sucked in a breath and dropped his own cigarette butt to mingle with hers in the parking lot.

She was right. There wasn't anything that they could do. They were both underdogs at Sunny Meadows. They didn't have any training that would make them able to handle the kinds of things that were going on with any of the patients there, and from Carol's scanty and poorly written file, there wasn't even any telling what he'd be getting into if he had some idea of trying to do something about it…if he even had any idea what he might do.

Daryl followed the woman toward the entrance of the building, both of them trampling the carefully manicured lawn with the dew damp signs declaring to "please walk on the sidewalk" without a care, her only stopping once because apparently her hell sunk too deep and she nearly lost a shoe.

"Hey," Daryl called at her before they reached the entrance.

Alice turned around, waiting on him to speak.

"What if there was somethin' we could do? Would you think it was worth it then? To give a shit?" Daryl asked.

The line between Alice's brows deepened and she shrugged again.

"What are you going to do, Daryl? This is the land of the lost…and you're just the clean-up boy and I'm just the gatekeeper," Alice said.

"An' that's all the hell either one of us gonna be we don't do nothin' about it," Daryl said. "I ain't talking about savin' all of 'em…but you look into her eyes one good time…there's somebody in there. She ain't even deep down. I'm gonna find her."

Alice smiled and nodded her head.

"Then I hope you can," she said. "And…if I can help? Let me know. Just don't get your hopes up too much. You might be dancing with the devil."

Daryl chuckled.

"Then it's him that's gonna be pissed off," Daryl said. "Because I can't dance a step…"

And maybe there was nothing to be done, and maybe he was wasting his time and energy by even thinking about something like trying to help…but Daryl couldn't shake the feeling that Carol Ann McAlister was more than just a hollow shell of a woman or a name on a poorly kept file.

He couldn't help feeling like she was and could be so much more.

And he couldn't help but feel that, given the chance to be that, she was someone that he would really like to get to know better.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl wasn't much of a detective and he certainly didn't consider himself as such, but he was determined to find out what he could…and it didn't take long to find out that one of the nurses was the nurse that was providing Carol with the books that she read, because the nurse was a friend of Alice's…one nurse at least recognized, maybe, that there was something inside this woman.

By his first break, Daryl had found the nurse…Melodye Hawkins…and she wasn't difficult to find. She, apparently, regularly worked in the various "activity" areas that they had in the hospital, and she could be found in a room that looked something like a children's play room, surrounded by crayons, art paper, and macaroni.

Daryl cleared his throat, checking the clock on the wall, and got the young blonde's attention.

"Alice told me you might have some information for me…" Daryl said.

The woman turned around from what she was doing and smiled at him, the bright, over dramatic smile that was common around the hospital.

"Alice told me you might want information," Melodye said. "I don't know how much I can help you…"

"But you willin' ta help what you can?" Daryl responded.

Melodye nodded.

"You give her books?" Daryl asked.

Melodye nodded again and Daryl watched as she crossed the room, going through a bag. She came up with a book and walked back toward Daryl. She offered him the book, but just as he reached to take it, she pulled it back, crossing her arms across her chest, the book protected by her arms.

She frowned at Daryl.

"The books that I give her…" Melodye said. "They're…my books…they're…not really good books."

Daryl made a face, but he could tell that there was something there…she needed some sort of reassurance from him.

"Listen…uh…I ain't no judge a' what people read," he said. "She likes them?"

Melodye nodded.

"They're nothing terrible," she said. "It's just that they're…well…they're not respectable books."

Daryl chuckled.

"OK…I ain't gonna tell no one noway…think we already in deep enough none of us wants the other ta go tattlin'," Daryl said.

Melodye smiled and held out her hand, offering him the book again that he took. He didn't even examine it, he just waited for an explanation.

"That's her favorite one," Melodye said. "She…asks to borrow it all the time. It has everything in it that she wants to read about…weddings…babies…her perfect little world."

Melodye tapped her finger on the book that he held.

"You give it to her…as a gift," Melodye said. "She makes a big distinction between the books, and between the magazines that she begs for her when she's doing collages…she makes a big difference between what she gets to "have" and what she gets to "keep". So you tell her that one is a gift from you to her…that she gets to keep it. You'll make her very, very happy."

Daryl nodded and turned the book over in his hand.

"Thanks," he said. "What else can you tell me 'bout her?"

Melodye shook her head.

"Nothing with too much fact, I'm afraid," she said.

"I'll take gossip an' bullshit…but I ain't got too much time, so be quick," Daryl said, casting a glance again toward the clock.

Melodye's eyes followed his to the clock and then she sighed.

"What I've heard is that she had a child…she was unwed and she gave the baby up," Melodye said. "Now some people said she never had a child and that she made the whole thing up…that it was a delusion or a hallucination or something. Other people said that her boyfriend never came for her after the child was born and that she asked for the child back."

Daryl shrugged.

"So if the kid was real, why didn't they just give it to her?" He asked.

Melodye shrugged.

"Supposedly, according to the ones that say there ever was a baby…it died. Complications with the delivery…poor care during pregnancy…I don't know why. They told her it was dead. That's what I hear from those that agree that there ever was a baby. The others, like I said, say it was all a delusion…it was all something she made up. They say that the boyfriend that she lost her mind over wasn't real either…didn't even exist," Melodye said.

Daryl chewed his lip, turning over the possibilities surrounding what he'd heard. Finally he nodded his understanding of what she was telling him.

"Fine," he responded. "That's what you hear, so what'cha know?"

Melodye shook her head.

"Like I said, not much," she said. "My position really lets me interact with the patients a good deal…but I don't handle treatment or anything like that. I follow orders…"

She broke off and raised her eyebrows at Daryl.

"At least, most of the time I follow orders," Melodye said. "But…I do agree with what you're saying and…I do think she's crazy, but she's not crazy like some of the others that are here."

"Maybe there are different levels of crazy," Daryl said.

Melodye nodded.

"There are definitely different levels of crazy," she agreed. "If you're serious about getting through to her…give her the book, give her a nice magazine…I don't know. Just be nice to her. She'll talk to anyone."

Daryl nodded his head and thanked the woman before he listened to whatever else she wanted to say and slipped out of the space to the locker room to leave the book until he had more of a plan of what to do to get in touch with Carol Ann McAlister.

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It took him two days to talk himself into doing anything at all…but finally Daryl decided that at least he could give Carol the book that he had in his locker. At least he could try to talk to her. Then, and only then, would he know if he was simply smitten by her beauty and had let that lead him into believing that she wasn't crazy, or if he really believed that she could come back from whatever had led her to even be in a place like Sunny Meadows.

Daryl found her in her room when he was on his lunch break. He'd scarfed down his food during one of his earlier short breaks just so he would have this break to do what he wanted.

And he hoped that what he was doing wasn't going to get him fired, but at least she was alone in the room, sitting on her bed, looking through piles of paper that he didn't snoop into from a small box she had on the floor beside her bed.

Daryl walked up and spoke to her, catching her attention. She turned her eyes up at him, focusing on him with the same intensity that she had the first time that he'd met her.

"I brought you some things," he said, pulling out the bag he'd carried with him from the locker room. He offered her the first of the items, a teddy bear that he'd picked up.

Carol looked at him before she took the bear.

"For me?" She asked, furrowing her brows.

Daryl smiled and nodded.

"Yeah…I didn't have any use for it…thought you might like to have it…for company?" Daryl responded. "Thought you might like to keep it? I brought you a couple more things too…if you want them…if you wanta keep 'em…"

He offered her the book and a small box of chocolates that he'd picked up when he'd stood in the drug store brewing over the bear.

She put the bear to the side and accepted both the book and the candy, looking no less perplexed than before. He supposed, though, that her confusion was a good sign. She didn't have any reason to expect gifts from him so any sane woman might question them…whereas he figured an insane woman might not.

But then, she might question gifts from anyone given the fact that there was apparently no one who brought this woman anything.

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"Nurse Hawkins told me you might like to keep these things," he offered. "I wanted you to have them…if you wanted ta keep 'em…"

Carol smiled at the mention of Melodye's name.

"Melodye told you to give them to me?" She asked.

Daryl didn't know if this was the right thing to say or not, but he took a chance because of the smile and nodded.

"Yeah, she told me you might like to keep them…would you like to keep them?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled and put the book aside. She opened up the small box of candy, four little pieces inside, and looked at it.

She laughed to herself.

"No one's ever given me sweets," Carol said. "Why are you?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I thought you might like ta get some," he said.

She smiled again and pushed the box toward him.

"Here…you can have one," she said.

Daryl pushed at the box.

"You can have them," Daryl said. "That's why they your chocolates…they for you to eat, an' only for you."

"The book is Melodye's," Carol said, putting the lid back on the box and putting it to the side. "She lets me borrow it. It's a very good book, but it's her book. It isn't yours…"

"This one…it is mine," Daryl said. "Melodye give it to me…an' I don't got any use for it…but I thought you might like to keep it."

Carol smiled at him. She swallowed, her throat bobbing.

"I would like that," she said. "Thank you…"

Daryl cleared his throat and nodded. He glanced at his watch, gauging how much time he had left in his break. It wasn't going to be enough time to do everything that he wanted to do…it wasn't going to be enough time to win her over and to have conversations with her. It wasn't going to be enough time to figure out if she was sane or not…and it wasn't going to be enough time to figure out how to get her out of Sunny Meadows, how to save her, if it was even possible at all.

But most things didn't happen in the span of a day, and Daryl was a fairly patient man when there was at least progress being made.

"I…uh…can't stay too long," Daryl said. "But…I was wonderin'…tomorrow when I'm on my lunch break, would you like ta take that walk? Around the grounds?"

Carol smiled at him, holding his gaze for a moment before she nodded gently.

"I'd like that," she said. "Very much…"

She shook her head at him.

"And…I don't know why you're being so nice to me…why you're giving me presents," Carol said, "but, thank you."

Daryl nodded enthusiastically, feeling a little nervous now that the beautiful woman was speaking to him. He hadn't expected her thanks to be something that he would appreciate as much as she probably appreciated anything that he'd brought her.

And he had to struggle to remind himself that he still didn't know if she was well.

"You're more than welcome," he said. "Tomorrow…we'll take that walk. Get a lil' sun…you can tell me about your book or somethin'…"

Carol smiled and agreed with him before he took his leave of her. She was talking to him…and that was a step in the right direction…or at least he hoped it was.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here! **

**I'm so happy to hear that some of you are enjoying this story! I hope you continue to enjoy it! **

**Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl was pretty sure that he couldn't get fired for walking with a patient during his break, but it didn't keep him from being at least a little bit nervous about doing so. His lunch eaten at earlier intervals, though, he showed up as he'd promised and offered to take Carol out to stroll around the grounds.

And while they walked, he grew more comfortable because they would, out in the yard, draw very little attention. There were other patients out enjoying the weather, some being the more mobile and independent patients who had more of a free pass around the establishment, but there were also various nurses and orderlies that tooled about and helped the patients who weren't so independent.

And Daryl walked with Carol's arm loosely looped within his own and tried to figure out where one might begin to have the conversation that he wanted to have with her.

Because it was a delicate situation and Daryl didn't need any real training to know that. The wrong thing said might make the conversation go much differently than he wanted it to go.

"What's ya book about?" Daryl asked finally. "The one I give you…to keep…what's it about?"

Carol smiled. The look on her face outside today told him that she wasn't hating the outside today as much as she might have let on that she hated it the day that he'd brought her out here.

"It's just a book," Carol said. "It's…a love story."

Daryl chuckled to himself.

Of course it was a love story. That's what women liked, right? They liked love stories.

"So," he said, "tell me what happens in it…I ain't gonna read the thing."

"There's not much to tell," Carol said, her voice sounding almost musical to Daryl's ears. He could hear the happiness in her voice…a happiness that he didn't expect to hear in the voice of anyone in such an establishment. "The lady falls in love with a gentleman…and they date…and then they're married. They have a baby…it's a boy that they name Henry. And that's it…they're happy."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"That's it?" He asked.

"What else did you want it to be about?" Carol asked, the smile fading from her face for a moment. "It's a lovely story."

Daryl stifled a laugh and nodded his head.

"It sounds like it," he said. "But…it don't sound like a real special story…sounds like any other story."

Carol frowned and he wanted to take back the statement. He tried, as quickly as he could, to sway the conversation a little.

"Why do you like the story so much?" He asked.

Carol's frown didn't fade.

"Because it's a very nice story," she said. "It's really lovely…"

She looked at him, catching his eyes and holding them hard with hers.

"Don't you think it's nice? They're married…and they have Henry and he's a little doll of a boy. He's everything that they want him to be…" Carol said.

Daryl bit his lip and tried to look as sincere as he could be. He nodded.

"You're right," Daryl said. "I think…I missed that part. I missed the part about Henry…it's real nice."

Carol smiled and her chest heaved under the strain of a heavy sigh and nodded with satisfaction.

"Do…you…ever think about leavin' this place?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked perplexed and slowed her steps, pulling back on his arm so that he stilled his own steps and faced her. She laughed somewhat ironically.

"This is my home," she said.

Daryl swallowed and nodded.

"People leave they homes," Daryl said. "I just wondered if you ever thought about it…"

Carol swayed her head from side to side.

"If I left home," Carol said, "then I would leave…because anyone would leave…because I was married. It wouldn't be respectable to leave home otherwise."

Daryl nodded his head, feeling no less confused or conflicted about what to do, but at least having a little more insight into Carol and the way that she thought…or at least the way she expressed her thoughts.

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He wasn't surprised when he was asked to basically sneak into the back door of the house, but he felt uncomfortable as he banged on the door and tried to flatten himself against the wood in case there were prying neighbor eyes on him.

Alice ripped the door open and pulled Daryl inside the small house with a jerk that left him almost afraid he'd lose his footing.

"Are your parents home?" He asked, looking around the kitchen that he'd now landed in.

Alice laughed.

"I don't live with my parents," she said. "I'm a career girl…I don't live under my parents' thumb."

"Should I be here?" Daryl asked, looking around.

"Probably not," Alice said. "I just don't want anyone to see you."

"They might get the wrong idea," Daryl ceded.

"Yeah…and it might get back to my parents," Alice declared.

Daryl laughed to himself then and shook his head at the brunette that was standing in front of him.

"They'd be pissed about that," he said.

"Hell no," she responded. "They'd be ecstatic."

She started to walk away, through the house, and Daryl followed her.

"They'd think I'd finally come to my senses and I was seeing a nice boy. They're biggest fear in life is that I'm going to end up an old maid…just like my Aunt Ruth," Alice declared as she entered into the small, nicely furnished living room. "And my biggest desire in life is to end up an old maid, just like my Aunt Ruth. It really isn't fair to give them false hope."

Daryl sat when she sat.

"You don't wanna get married?" He asked.

He just assumed that was what every woman wanted…she wanted to find a husband, have some kids, live a full life…but apparently Alice was comfortable being an old maid that worked to kill time and boredom at the local asylum.

Alice just shook her head at him and lit a cigarette from the leather pouch lying on the coffee table. She slid the pouch across the table as an offering to him and he accepted it, taking a cigarette and lighting it for himself.

"Melodye should be here soon," Alice said. "She had to work late."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her.

"Melodye…the nurse, Melodye?" He asked.

Alice nodded.

"We're roommates," Alice said. "We share the house so that our parents don't have to worry about us being alone…we're both working on our careers…this way they don't have to worry about us bringing home any…strange men."

Daryl nodded his head.

"So what did you find out about Carol?" Alice asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"I don't know how ta make heads or tails of her," Daryl said. "I talked to her…but I ain't asked her about her life yet."

Alice nodded.

"There's time for that," she said. "From what I hear there are a lot of conflicting views about what's real and what's not real. She could be totally cuckoo, you know? A real piece of work. If she made up a boyfriend and a baby? That's one hell of an imagination right there.

"What if she ain't made it up, though?" Daryl asked. "What if…she really did have a boyfriend that didn't marry her…she really did have a baby that died? What if all that's real?"

They were interrupted when the door opened and Melodye came in, taking off her hat and stopping a moment when she saw Daryl sitting there on the couch.

"Hello," she said with a smile a moment later.

"How's it goin'?" Daryl responded, standing up to acknowledge her entrance into the room, however delayed his action might be.

She smiled and nodded her head slightly to acknowledge him.

"Please…sit," she said. "I'm fine…"

She sat down on the chair near the couch that he and Alice were occupying and Daryl watched as she picked through her hair for pins, beginning to unwind the tangle of long blonde hair.

"We were just talking about the possibility that Carol's boyfriend and baby were real," Alice said. "What do you think, Mel? Were they real or did she make them up?"

Melodye sighed.

"I don't know…" she responded. "I mean…if they were real she has no recollection of them now."

Daryl furrowed his brow at her.

"How'd she just forget 'em?" Daryl asked.

Melodye shrugged.

"With everything they've done to her?" Melodye asked. "The fact that she even knows who she is at all is surprising to me…she's been through a lot of treatment. Now she just sort of drifts through life. She likes doing the crafts with me, but she just does the same thing all the time…she does her crafts about weddings and babies…nothing different ever. But if you ask her if she's been married, or you ask her if she's had a baby, she looks at you like you're the crazy one and insists that she's never done any of that…but that she would love to fall in love…she would love to get married and have babies."

Daryl bit at his thumb while the eyes of the two women were on him like he might have some answer to this.

"OK," he said. "But if she's crazy…let's just say she's forgot 'cause they damn near beat it outta her, that she had all this before…she ain't dangerous crazy. She's…harmless crazy. Woman don't want nothing that don't every other woman in the world want."

Alice snorted, but she didn't say anything.

"She's harmless crazy," Melodye said after a moment. "But there's a chance that she remembers…one day…that this boyfriend comes back to her…"

"So what happens then?" Daryl asked.

Melodye shrugged.

"I don't know? She loses her mind? They haul her right back through treatment again…take it away again? If it was there to begin with…" Melodye said.

Daryl frowned.

"And if they didn't take her ta treatment? If they just…" He stopped and shrugged. "What'd happen if she just got ta…deal with it?"

Alice hummed, getting his attention.

"That's the question," she said. "Is she really crazy? Was she ever crazy? Or was she simply emotional?"

"That'd be pretty damn emotional, wouldn't it? To think she'd lost her mind?" Daryl asked.

Alice shrugged.

"Emotion and nowhere to go…" Alice said. "The perfect thing to land you at Sunny Meadows. You can be thought mad for less."

Daryl sighed again.

"I gotta keep talkin' with her," Daryl said. "I gotta figure out…is she crazy or is she…trapped."

Both women nodded at him.

"If she's trapped," Daryl said. "You reckon there's a chance ta get her outta there? A chance ta…who the hell can get her outta there?"

Alice and Melodye exchanged a look that Daryl didn't understand.

"Anyone who's taking responsibility for her, I guess," Alice said with a shrug. "She…doesn't have anyone."

"Are you serious about this?" Melodye asked. "Are you serious about trying to get this woman out of Sunny Meadows?"

Daryl nipped at his thumb but nodded his head slightly and without commitment. He wasn't entirely sure about this, but his gut was leading him and he was somewhat inclined to listen to it.

"That's a Pandora's Box…you don't know what you might be dealing with," Melodye said. "You have no idea what you might end up with…if she's not as harmless as she seems?"

Daryl nodded his head at her.

"No…you're right," he said. "I don't got no idea what the hell I'm gettin' into…but I got me a real urge ta figure it out. Alice…can you find out how the hell I might go about it? Becoming responsible for her? Figure out what we gotta do…how we gotta…lie?"

Daryl caught the two women exchange glances again.

Finally Alice sighed.

"You keep doing your thing, handsome," she said, leaning forward to pluck another cigarette from the pouch he'd sent back in her direction, "and I'll do mine."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Here we go, another chapter.**

**These chapters are tricky and they're not perfect, but I'm doing the best that I can to tell the story that I want to tell. I hope I'm doing it justice.**

**I realized that in the previous chapter there was something of a typo when Melodye spoke and said something about Ed "coming back" to Carol. It wasn't really a typo, but apparently it wasn't very clear. I just wanted to clarify that she wasn't saying what if he literally comes back to her. She meant what if the memory of Ed comes back to Carol. I hope that clarifies things a little.**

**Here's another little chapter. I hope I did it justice and you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"He's a judge," Alice said as Daryl stood, holding the door to the car open and waiting for her to make her way to the vehicle. "You want him on our side…so remember…best behavior and if you're not sure what to say then make an excuse to ask me."

"Why don't you just tell him whatever the hell you gotta say?" Daryl asked.

Alice laughed lightly.

"It's that pesky don't speak unless you're expected to speak thing…he might find me…abrasive," Alice said. "I'm going to be there…I'm on your side…but it might not look too great for you if I don't come off as the delightful little deb that he's going to be expecting me to be, coming with my dear cousin out of concern."

She slid into the car and he closed the door, going around to get into his side.

When he was in and they were headed in the direction that she was pointing out, Daryl couldn't help but chew at his thumb in apprehension. What they were doing…what he was getting into…he could only hope that it was a good decision.

"So…so I just give him the papers? Tell him I wanna be her guardian?" Daryl asked.

"Her conservator," Alice corrected. "You aren't her guardian…but you'll be her conservator…you'll take care of her medical needs…well, really all the needs that she has. There's no one else. She's a ward of the state…so you'll offer to take care of her until she no longer needs the care."

"An' you think this judge is gonna rule that this is a good damn idea?" Daryl asked.

Alice smiled and shifted around in the seat, batting her dark brown eyes at him playfully.

"I'm sure he's going to think that…and I'm a wonderful character witness," she declared. "Besides…this woman literally has no one. You've got to be better than that, right?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're so damn supportive," he muttered.

She laughed and bit the end of her tongue at him.

"I don't think it's him that we're going to have to worry about…how are you going to convince her that this is a good idea for her? To go with you?" Alice asked.

Daryl sucked in a breath.

"He gives me permission to get her outta there…I'll figure the rest out," Daryl said.

"You know this might be a mess, right? I mean…you might get her out and she might go completely crazy," Alice said. She shook her head dramatically. "I'm not trying to be negative, but you have thought this out, haven't you?"

Daryl sighed and sucked his teeth.

"This might be crazy enough ta land my ass in Sunny Meadows…but for some damn reason I just gotta do it," he said. "Come hell or high water…I gotta try it."

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"OK," Daryl said to Melodye, "so…we gotta doctor now that's gonna see her if she's got a problem, but she's 'stable' so long as nothin' don't go outta whack…just gotta get her here."

"You're going to need a sitter," Melodye said, helping Daryl put together the spare room that he had never had much of a purpose for before now, but now it looked like it would be home to someone.

The room was furnished and ready for someone to live there, and Daryl had employed the two women to come in and help him figure out what would be nice touches for a young woman. What would be the things that she might like to make this somewhere that she wanted to call her own.

So far he thought that she'd be quite happy with the arrangements because it was, unquestionably, nicer than the little corner that she inhabited at the asylum.

And here she would actually have a chance to breath…a chance to maybe find herself.

"Got that covered too," Daryl said.

"The judge's wife," Alice said. "She's a darling thing. She's a seamstress…works from home but he offered to move her machine here. She'll sit with Carol during her day while Daryl's at work…then he keeps her under control when he's home."

"I'm lookin' into a housekeeper too," Daryl admitted. "I mean…if I can afford one…an' if it seems like it might be somethin' that Carol wouldn't mind having around."

"Have you mentioned any of this to Carol? I mean the moving in with you?" Melodye asked, putting the clean sheets on the bed and doing a run through of what they might not want to leave in the room.

Daryl swallowed and hummed out something that was non-committal, but she caught it and looked at him.

"You have talked to her about this, right?" Melodye asked.

"Kinda," Daryl said.

Melodye and Alice both looked at him now like he had lied to them about the whole thing…which he hadn't. He shook his head.

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "I talked to her…but she don't…" he broke off, not knowing what to say. "I feel like I'm the crazy one even doin' this…but she ain't gonna get no better in there. Four damn years she's been in there…don't no one know for sure she's ever had a kid…so I'm gettin' her out. I'ma get a real doctor ta come an' check her out…at least I can maybe know if she's had a kid. Maybe gettin' outta there…maybe livin' a real life? Maybe that's all she needs…all she needs ta figure out she's alright, you know?"

"So you talked to her?" Melodye asked again, this time holding her neck at an odd angle.

"I did…I told her she was…comin' ta stay with me. I told her she was gonna like it here…so much more'n where she's at…and I'ma make sure she does," Daryl said.

"So she said she wanted to come and stay with you?" Alice asked. "She agreed that she thinks this is the best thing?"

Daryl cleared his throat.

"Yeah…she did…she's tickled pink about it," Daryl said. "She's so…damn excited…hell she might be makin' damn collages for me 'fore I get her signed out an' all."

Both women sighed deeply, looking relieved.

"No, that's good," Melodye said. "Excitement is good, right? How did you sell the whole thing to her? She's so…"

"Traditional?" Alice threw in.

Melodye nodded at her.

"Well…" Daryl said. He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "I mean it weren't that hard…you know…we been spendin' my lunch break together every day now. We go walkin' an' we talk…an' she's talkin' more…an' she's real sweet…real easy ta get ta know…'cept for the crazy part. An' we been eatin' together…an' I bring her things…she likes gettin' presents…"

Now both women were staring at him again with an intensity that he knew that he deserved. He deserved every bit of doubt and concern hanging on the features of both women. He probably deserved more.

Because if there was a fast track to hell…he was almost certain he was on it.

"Daryl…what did you tell her?" Alice asked after a moment. "To get her to come here…to make her excited…what did you tell her?"

Daryl shook his head.

"Do it matter, really? I mean if she's crazy it ain't gonna matter no way…an' if she's sane…" Daryl said.

"What did you tell her?" Melodye asked.

"It ain't so much what I told her…as what I asked her," Daryl said.

Alice leaned on the dresser she was standing beside where she was putting in the new clothes that Daryl had Melodye pick up for Carol to go along with the two new dresses that he'd had made for her. Melodye sat down abruptly on the bed that she'd just finished smoothing the covers of. Both of them were looking at him like he might do something amazing like explode at any given moment.

"Well?" Alice asked. "I for one love a good story…so please, entertain me. What did you ask Carol to make her excited to come here?"

Daryl chewed his lip.

"She's a beautiful woman…an' she's sweet…an'…I don't care, you know? I don't give a damn she's had a kid…don't give a damn if she ain't. Shit happens…hell…if anything I wish…if she did have the damn kid…that I knew how the hell ta get it back…" Daryl said.

"Kid's dead," Alice offered, her voice lower than before.

Daryl nodded his head.

"What have you done, Daryl?" Alice asked, straightening up.

Daryl swallowed.

"I asked her…if she'd marry me," Daryl admitted. "I asked her if she'd marry me…an' I told her she was comin' ta live with me 'cause she was gonna be my wife…an' I mean when ya hear everyone sayin' you oughta go out and find yourself a wife you think it's gonna happen a little different…but maybe it don't. Maybe you just gotta go with what you got."

"You asked her to marry you? Daryl, are you crazy?" Alice exclaimed, crossing the room toward Daryl.

Daryl stared at her, her face twisted with concern. She shook her head at him, putting her hands on his arms for the first time that he could ever remember having sincere physical contact with the woman in the almost six months that he'd known her…the almost six months that they'd been working together to try to save the life of a woman that no one else even seemed to remember was alive or had ever existed.

"Daryl, are you sincerely considering marrying a crazy woman? Have you thought about this? It's…are you mad?" Alice asked.

Daryl forced himself to swallow.

He wasn't sure, anymore, of the answer to that question.

But he shook his head.

"I love her," Daryl said. "Right or wrong…crazy or not…I love her."

Alice sighed and relaxed her body slightly, turning to share a look with Melodye who hadn't moved from her position on the bed.

Daryl cleared his throat, catching the look between them.

"Listen…" Daryl said after a moment. "I know…about you two…an' I know…"

He stopped for a moment when they both turned back to face him.

"I know that sometimes…you can't help what you feel…an' I know that sometimes…other people, they might see it as mad…but maybe love drives you crazy, or maybe you gotta be fuckin' mad ta fall in love in the first damn place," Daryl said.

He shook his head.

"But it's there…an' I ain't askin' you two ta think that what I'm doin' is a good idea…an' I ain't askin' you ta think it's even alright…but I'm askin' you ta help me," Daryl said.

Both women looked at each other again before they turned to look at him with expressions he wasn't going to try to decipher.

"I guess if this blows up in our faces," Melodye said, "we can all request to share a room at Sunny Meadows…"


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I just wanted to let everyone know that we have a long way to go with this story. I don't intend for it to be a short one in any way. There's a lot that's going to happen before we're done.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl escorted Carol into her room. He could tell that she was already a little uneasy, maybe, about the situation, because she hadn't been prompted into speaking much on the car ride. But he was determined to stick this out and he was sure that he could, given some time, get to the root of things with her.

He just couldn't believe that she was crazy…at least not entirely.

"This is your room," he said. "Now…you can do what'cha want in here. It's all your space."

He put her bag on the bed beside the small box of things that she had…a box that he'd brought in earlier for her.

Melodye and Alice were going to continue their behind the scenes research for more information on Carol. They were trying to figure out how all of them might go about getting more information on her, but Daryl was supposed to be getting all of her "information" within the week so he thought that a more extensive file on the woman might hold more of the answers they sought than the more streamline version they kept close at hand at Sunny Meadows.

He'd already decided, though, that there was nothing in the rumors he'd heard that he couldn't live with…and, in fact, he wasn't sure if there was anything he couldn't live with out of the given possibilities. He simply wanted to know so that he'd know what he could do to bring the woman entirely out of her shell…so that he could know what to do so that she could, if that's what she needed to do, deal with her past and move on from it instead of simply living closed somewhere in her mind.

"This is my room?" She asked, looking around. He took it as a good sign that she felt sure enough, a moment later, to walk around the space, trailing her fingers over the blanket on the bed and then on from there to the dresser.

"Sure is," Daryl said. "And everything in here is yours to keep. In the closet there…them dresses? I had them made for you, but if they don't fit we can get them resized. It really isn't any kind of problem."

Carol went to the closet, opened it, and took out one of the two dresses. Daryl hadn't really known what she might like, but the judge's wife was a seamstress and she'd offered to make the dresses for her as a "welcome home" gift for Daryl to give her. So she'd picked out the pattern and he'd picked out the fabric.

"I hope you like 'em," Daryl said. "I got the blue 'cause it'll bring out your eyes…and the other one…I just thought it was pretty."

Carol examined the dresses a moment before she held out the one she had in her hand…the one that was a multicolored fabric that Daryl had liked because it had about every color in it that he could imagine. Now, though, he worried that he'd chosen badly and she'd probably have preferred, like Melodye said, a solid color instead.

"You picked these out for me?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded his head and she smiled at him.

"I love them," she offered. "I'll freshen up and change into one of them now. They're very nice."

Daryl sighed a little with relief. This whole thing was actually going much more smoothly than he'd thought it might. He'd prepared for the worst so that he could be pleasantly surprised if anything at all turned out to be better than the absolute worst.

"You do that…I'll show you the bathroom," he said, gesturing for her to follow him so he could take her to the bathroom. "This whole house…it's my house an' that means it's your house too…an' tomorrow when I go ta work, a friend a' mine, she's gonna come here an' she's gonna work here. She…uh…uses my house for sewin'…but she ain't gonna bother you none, OK? She's just gonna be here through the day. But the house is yours…anything you want…it's yours."

Carol nodded at him, but she didn't say anything. She looked a little overwhelmed, but Daryl thought it might be a bit much to take in.

"I'ma go get dinner ready," Daryl said. "While you freshen up…take ya time."

Carol stopped and shook her head at him.

"No! I'll make dinner…I'll show you," she said with a smile. "I can make your dinner for you…you just tell me what you want."

Daryl shook his head.

"Not tonight," he said. "Tomorrow? I got dinner already…someone brought us dinner. All I gotta do is put it out…no cookin' or nothin'."

Carol frowned.

"At least let me put it out?" Carol asked. "You shouldn't make your own dinner. I wouldn't be a very good wife if…"

She broke off and Daryl didn't like the look on her face. He reached and touched her shoulder, one of the few places he dared to touch besides her arms and her hands the few times that she'd held hands with him.

"Hey…you wanna put it out, you can," Daryl said. "I been livin' alone a long time…so I'm used ta doin' things myself…don't mean you ain't gonna be a perfect wife. Just takes some gettin' used to, that's all."

Carol nodded.

"I'll freshen up," she said, her face looking a little lighter. "And then I'll get your dinner ready."

Daryl nodded his head.

"Sounds good," he said. "You take ya time…"

She stepped into the bathroom and Daryl slipped into the kitchen to get the food as close to being ready as it could be. He wasn't used to having someone wait on him, and though he knew that most men couldn't wait to have a wife to serve them hand and foot, he didn't like the idea of sitting around and doing nothing while Carol did just that.

She might, though, change his mind…simply because it seemed that, to her, anything less was something of a failure on her part.

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"Just leave 'em? For a minute?" Daryl asked, reaching his hand across the table and catching Carol's wrist when she immediately got up to start clearing the table as he finished eating his food.

She nodded at him and sat back in her chair.

"This is nice, ain't it? Dinner was good…now we just get ta relax a little…it's real nice," Daryl said.

Carol nodded her head.

"It is really nice," she responded. "I love your house."

"Our house," Daryl corrected, earning himself another nod.

"May I ask you something?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded at her.

"Yeah…you can ask me whatever you want, whenever you want. You don't gotta have my permission ta speak," Daryl said.

Carol offered him a soft smile at the universal permission to speak and he wondered if some day she'd be as chatty as Alice and Melodye got.

"When will we be married?" Carol asked. "I mean…if it isn't too much to ask."

Daryl cleared his throat.

He hadn't thought that through entirely. He wasn't sure how the whole thing would work if they were actually going to be married. He'd sort of been flying on the hope that as soon as she was in the house she would have either a total transformation of character or else she would have some kind of massive meltdown and confirm for him that she was mad.

Neither had happened.

She remained sweet, silent, demure…she was eager to please him, that was evident. She wanted to be married and he assumed that if she were pressed she would be focused on having a child, but he wasn't going to press too much into that at the moment. Baby steps seemed like a good idea to him.

Still, he didn't really know how he would go about marrying her, and he'd intended to speak to the judge about it, since the man seemed like a reasonable upholder of the law, to find out even if he could marry her given the circumstances. She was eager to please and she seemed eager to marry him, but if she was crazy, she might not even know for sure if she liked him or not.

"Well…soon," Daryl said. "But there's some things that's gotta be taken care of, you know? Things that I gotta take care of…an' when I get 'em all taken care of then we gonna get married."

Carol stared at him while he spoke, obviously drinking in every word. She furrowed her brow at him.

"But we are to be married?" She asked.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Of course," he said. "Didn't I tell you we was gonna get married?"

Carol nodded her head and Daryl hoped he wasn't leading this poor woman into some kind of lie that he didn't even mean to be telling. He wasn't sure how well that would go over.

Still, he did have full intention to marry her if he was allowed to do so. It wasn't as though he was passing up any other offer of marriage…and he was sure, down in his gut even though it was churning a little at the moment, that he was going to be happy with her…whoever she turned out to be at the end of it all.

"It's just that…I don't have a ring," Carol said. "And…it isn't proper, you know? For me to be living with you when we aren't married. People are going to say things…and I don't want anything to happen. I don't want people to say things because you're a wonderful man, Daryl…you don't deserve for me to bring that…shame to you."

Daryl swallowed.

There was something in her voice that was a little different than before. There was something there that was a little less robotic than she was from time to time. He wondered if the something there was related to this boyfriend…the one who may or may not have been real…and whatever the situation surrounding the possibly imaginary dead baby was.

"Nobody's gonna say nothin'," Daryl said. "You got your room an' I got mine. I brought your stuff in there today for you…but I ain't even goin' in your room without permission, OK? There ain't nothin' that anyone can say an' if they do then it's just people talkin' an' they sure do love ta do that all on they own. You can't shame me…an' you gonna have a ring. Real soon. I promise you that."

Carol nodded her head at him and he thought he caught her smile quickly, though she wiped it away. He didn't know what the smile was directly tied to, but he'd take it either way.

"Now…in the mornin', like I said, I gotta go ta work. And Mrs. Greene…she's gonna be here workin' but you don't gotta worry about her botherin' you, OK? She's just workin' from here…an' tomorrow evenin' I got a doctor comin' that's gonna look you over, OK? An' then we'll have supper together," Daryl said.

Carol leaned up a little from her relaxed position.

"A doctor? Why?" She asked.

Daryl almost smiled to himself. This he had thought ahead about enough to have something to say.

"Gotta get checked out…'fore we get married," he said. "An' both of us gotta give 'em a blood sample…so he's gonna handle that an' do the check ups…you alright with that, ain't you?"

He'd already decided that if he had to succumb to an examination to get her to go along with it, he was willing to do that, and if they intended to be married then they would need proof of blood tests regardless.

She seemed satisfied with the answer because she sucked in a breath and sat back in her chair, taking up the more relaxed stance from before. She nodded at him and then smiled.

"Yes…I understand," she said.

He was relieved that at least she was accepting of that, and he would at least make sure that she was physically healthy…or if she wasn't, then he would know what was wrong with her. He might, also, get answers about the possible baby that he didn't know if he could count on the records he was expecting to get to reveal to him.

"Daryl," Carol said after a moment, "I'm tired…do you think that I could do the dishes and retire?"

Daryl almost told her to leave the dishes and the leftovers…he'd get them or they could soak overnight, which was commonly his practice when he bothered to cook something that required dishes…but he knew that she wouldn't be OK with that so he nodded.

"Sure," he said. "It's your house. You don't gotta have my permission ta go ta bed neither."

Carol smiled and nodded her head before she got up and went about taking care of the leftovers of the meal.

"In the morning I'll make you breakfast," she said. "Just let me know what time you need to leave…and I'll have you breakfast and something for lunch."

Daryl grunted his approval, knowing it was better not to argue with her, and then finally voiced that it would be fine and he would wake her by knocking at her door when she needed to get up.

He felt like tonight he might need a good night's sleep as much as she did, but he wondered how well he'd sleep with so much going on in his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: So here's another chapter for you as we go along. I've edited it a couple of times, but there's a lot going on here. I tried, but I'm sure there are a ton of errors.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"So listen to this," Melodye said, unwrapping the sandwich that she'd brought for lunch, "the meds that Carol takes?"

"The stuff to make her sleep?" Daryl asked.

He hadn't given it to her the night before because she hadn't seemed to have any problem going to sleep at all, though they'd warned him that she may very well need it because she didn't sleep well. The other medicine she wasn't supposed to be without, but she got that in the morning, and he'd made sure that she'd taken it before he left for work, after he'd accepted the lunch that she'd made for him and shared with him some story about her mother…that may or may not be true, because at this moment Daryl wasn't sure what to believe or not.

Melodye shook her head at him.

"No…those are tranquilizers," she said. "You don't have to give those to her…right? They didn't say to give them to her?"

"They said if she needs them," Daryl said. "But she seemed ta sleep just fine on her own…where's Alice?"

"Working," Melodye responded.

They were holding down one of the outdoor picnic tables and sharing lunch together. Mostly it was convenient because it was the only time they had free reign to talk without having to worry about anyone overhearing them since they had a clear view of everyone around them.

"So are you listening?" Melodye asked, tapping her knuckles on the table.

"Yeah…I'm listenin', what is it?" Daryl asked.

He was trying to listen. He was distracted and he couldn't help that. There was so much that he needed to do and he felt like he was constantly forgetting everything that he needed to do simply to replace it with a whole new list of things.

"The medicine she takes," Melodye said, "I talked to Randy…and he said that the stuff that she takes…it makes people like…like zombies…"

Daryl raised his eyebrows at the woman and then didn't even try to stop the face that he naturally made in response to such a ridiculous statement.

"You got too hot or somethin'?" Daryl asked.

Melodye looked around and then shook her head.

"No…listen," she insisted again.

"I ain't stopped yet," Daryl said.

"The medicine…it's supposed to 'stabilize' them…but Randy said it can strip them of their personalities. It stabilizes them because their feelings...get taken away or really lessened. They become numb…going through the motions and such but…not really living," Melodye said.

"Randy who? Randy that nurse guy with the glasses?" Daryl asked.

Melodye nodded her head.

"He knows a lot about the meds, Daryl," Melodye insisted. "He's the one that hands them out and he…I don't know how but he's studied pharmaceuticals or something and he can even prescribe medication. He said that what she's taking is 'typical' for patients who are really depressed…manic…have personality disorders. It makes them even keeled and pleasant."

Daryl leaned on his elbows.

"Well…she's pleasant and she's pretty even…" Daryl responded. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Damn near…straight lining most the time."

"Zombies," Melodye said, flicking her wrist at him. "The living dead…strip her of everything and she can't be overemotional or a burden to anyone here…or to you."

Daryl chewed at his thumb and turned over the information.

"Mel…you sayin' that if she don't take this medicine…she'll be her again? She'll get all them emotions and feelings an' things back?" Daryl asked.

Melodye shrugged.

"Either that or she goes entirely mad," Melodye said, curling her lip a little. "It's a big chance to take. I just thought you might want to know that your…human doll…could very well be a doll because she's too drugged up to have a…mind of her own."

Daryl nodded his head.

"Thanks, Mel," Daryl said, getting to his feet. "I…uh…got a couple things ta do 'fore lunch is over…but…soon as I get her settled an'…soon as I feel like I got some control or somethin' over things…you an' Alice gonna come eat supper one night."

"Good," Melodye responded. "I want to see first hand what she's like outside Sunny Meadows. I want to see what she's really like…"

"You an' me both," Daryl commented. "See ya," he said as he got up and stuffed the last of his food in his mouth as he walked back toward the building so that he could take care of a few things before his break was over and he'd be expected to get back to working with the other patients.

The other walking dead.

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Daryl followed Judge Greene out into the yard where they wandered around.

At the moment he was close to being overwhelmed because his house was currently busier than it ever had been before within his memory. The doctor had come and he'd already been examined, but now he was keeping the company of the judge while the doctor saw Carol, the judge's wife, Josephine, having agreed to remain in the house if there were anything that the doctor needed and she could assist him with.

The judge was an older man, quite distinguished, but Daryl found him a fairly easy man to speak with…or not to speak with if that was what the man preferred.

"How are things working out for you and Miss McAlister?" Hershel Greene asked, making his way toward the car parked on the curb that he'd come in. He leaned against the vehicle and Daryl rocked on his feet on the curb a few feet away.

"Tell you the truth? They going alright…but I ain't had her here but one night," Daryl said.

Hershel Greene nodded his head at Daryl and then he narrowed his eyes.

"I was surprised when I received your paperwork about the young lady," Hershel said.

Daryl nodded then and chewed on his lip, trying to decide if he had the gall to bring up the questions that he had for the man.

"What…uh…what do you know about Carol Ann?" Daryl asked.

The old man chuckled.

"Perhaps the real question here is what do you know about her?" Hershel asked.

Daryl didn't respond directly to the statement, and Hershel Greene seemed undeterred by his silence.

"There was quite the scandal surrounding Miss McAlister," Hershel said. "I knew of it…but of course I wasn't directly involved."

Daryl nodded his head and kept his eyes on the old man in hope that he'd continue speaking.

Hershel pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his nose before tucking the handkerchief back where he'd found it and tucking his hands into his trouser pockets.

"What I heard was that she was betrothed to the son of Edward Peletier," Hershel said.

Daryl felt his stomach do an odd little turn at the mention of being betrothed to anyone. The imaginary boyfriend, if the story was true, now ceased to be quite so imaginary.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"Why weren't they married?" He asked.

Hershel chuckled again.

"Well now that's where the story tends to have several variations," Hershel said. "Some said that she went to visit family that she had…family who lived out West and that she never returned to marry Edward Junior."

"But that ain't the truth, 'cause she's in there right now," Daryl said.

Hershel nodded his head and shifted his weight before settling against the car once more.

"I knew Edward Peletier…Senior," Hershel said. "He was…well…the good Christian in me makes me…find it distasteful…to give my honest opinion of the man. I never knew him well, but we crossed paths more than once. His version of the story was that they took in Miss McAlister after her father's passing and she was betrothed to his son, his only son, and that they sent the girl away when she became…with child…by another man before their nuptials."

Daryl swallowed.

"She had a baby?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know the details, of course," Hershel said. "Of course…if I were to venture a guess, I'd say that if the child wasn't that of Edward Junior…it was likely to be the offspring of Edward Senior."

"You mean you think he mighta took advantage of her?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brows.

Hershel shook his head.

"I mean to say no such thing," Hershel said. "I've said too much as it is since I'm speaking purely on speculation and Josephine would feel driven to subject me to an extra hour of studying over the Word after dinner if she knew that I'd said as much as I have."

Daryl almost laughed, but he bit the inside of his cheek to hold it back.

"So they sent her ta get rid of the kid…" Daryl said, speaking to himself as much as he was to the judge. "An' then what? How'd she end up like she is? How'd she end up in Sunny Meadows?"

Hershel shook his head.

"That's where the information that I have is a little more specific and a little less specific all at the same time," Hershel said. "For whatever reason, the young woman's engagement was something that Edward Junior no longer felt the need to honor. I had never noticed, until I received your paperwork, that she was even in the institution…but since then I've done a little inspecting and it seems that she suffered a mental breakdown or something of the like. That's all I know."

Daryl nodded his head.

"But you accepted my petition…?" Daryl said, his voice low.

Hershel nodded.

"As I said," Hershel replied, "I wasn't even aware of her presence in the institution until I received your petition…and it wasn't until I read the name that it even renewed for me the curiosity of what had happened in the situation. The young lady had become a ward of the state…a person without, as was reported, any living relatives…and apparently without any acquaintances. I felt that I couldn't turn down a petition that was made with such concern as you expressed. I trust that you won't make me regret my decision?"

Daryl shook his head.

"I hope not," he said. He laughed ironically to himself. "I don't know what the hell I'm doin'…an' I'ma be real honest about that…but I'm doin' the best I can. I aim ta do everything right."

Hershel nodded.

"That's the first step to doing things correctly, in every avenue of life," Hershel said. "Josephine will be good company for the young lady…and the young lady will be good company for Jo. Let me know if I can be of assistance…do you have family in the area?"

Daryl nodded.

"I got a brother…lives one town over. I ain't exactly told him what I'm doin' just yet…would rather keep it to myself," Daryl said.

Hershel nodded his head again and stood up straight from where he was leaning, stretching his legs very obviously. Daryl stepped out of his way so that he could step back up the curb.

"Judge Greene," Daryl started.

"Hershel," the man said, cutting him off.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Hershel," Daryl said, feeling a surge of something like guilt over addressing the man by his first name. "If I were to want to marry Carol Ann…with the most…noble…intentions…would I be allowed to do that?"

Hershel looked at him, his brows furrowed.

"If I were to see that it would be in the best interest of the young lady…and if I were to see that she's obviously…well enough…to make such a decision? I could probably see clear to approving the marriage," Hershel said. "But I would have to spend a little time with you both…and I would have to consult with Josephine."

Hershel offered Daryl a wink as a gesture at the last few words and Daryl laughed.

"Of course you're welcome ta stay for dinner any time you want…when you come ta pick up Mrs. Greene," Daryl responded. "Except…tonight things are…"

Hershel nodded his head.

"You're both still learning things," Hershel said.

Both of them turned at the sound of the door opening and turned to see Josephine Greene coming down the steps, the heavy bag she'd brought with her hung on her arm.

Daryl turned quickly toward Hershel as he started to move to cover the ground toward the steps to take the bag from her.

"Whatever happened ta the men? What was his name? The old man?" Daryl asked.

"Edward Peletier Senior passed away about a year and half ago," Hershel said. "Heart complications…something of the like. I don't know about the son."

Daryl thanked him and followed him toward the house where Josephine Greene told him that Carol and the doctor were waiting inside and she would see him in the morning. Then he took his leave of both of them and stood on the porch watching as they got into the car and left for their own home, leaving him alone again with Carol, the doctor and whatever information that he might have, and the new information…true or not…that he'd acquired from Hershel Greene.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. **

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Daryl couldn't exactly say he'd had a full night's sleep, but he'd at least had a chance to think over some things. He knocked on Carol's bedroom door before he went to take his shower and get ready for work, and by the time he was dressed, she'd prepared a breakfast for him that he certainly wasn't going to argue with.

"You gotta eat too," he commented, looking through the pill bottles that he had for her and picking up the bottle that she was supposed to take pills from each day. He palmed out the pill before he pulled a knife out the drawer and cut one of them in half, dropping the extra half into the bottle again and putting it in his pocket, nervous to leave the pills around the house so he was stuck carrying them around in his pockets.

Carol brought a plate and sat at the little table and Daryl took his seat.

"Food looks good," Daryl said. "Thank you for breakfast."

Carol looked at him almost like he'd begun speaking in foreign tongues. She didn't respond, though, and he put the pills on the table to the side. He noticed her eyes flick toward them, but she didn't say anything at the moment.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" He asked.

She froze and he waited for an answer. After a moment, though, she simply shook her head at him.

"I…don't remember," she said with a shrug, filling her mouth almost immediately with a much larger bite than she typically took while eating.

But Daryl could already tell that she was lying. Two mornings with her, though, and he could already tell that she was different, at least a little different, over breakfast than she was, for instance, when he got home from work.

He had spent most of his night chewing over his new information. Hershel's story had suggested it and the doctor had confirmed it when he'd invited the man out on the porch to discuss his examination of Carol.

She'd had a child. It was official.

Daryl didn't know the details behind the child, but it was certain that she'd given birth to a child, whether it was dead or alive.

The doctor, having spoken to Daryl prior to the examination, had avoided mentioning it to Carol, and Daryl sincerely wasn't sure if she did or didn't remember anything about the baby at all.

He assumed, then, given the information that the boyfriend in question…the one so many people wished to attribute to her "delusions" had been Edward something Junior, that the child had been his…or else had been the child of some other man if his father's apparent accusations were true that she'd had an affair with some other man to fall pregnant.

But really, Daryl had realized, none of that really mattered to him in the slightest, at least not in its purest form.

He didn't really care what people thought about him…or what they said about him. And he didn't much care what they said about people that he cared about. His family had never exactly been held in the highest regard by society, and no matter what he'd ever done to try to be deemed acceptable by the people around him, he'd learned that it was impossible to please them.

And from that, he'd learned that he didn't care. There would always be someone around to criticize for something.

So if Carol had been engaged before, he didn't care. If she had a child by the man she was engaged to, and he could easily see how such a thing could happen, he wasn't concerned by that. Even if she'd had a baby by some other man…he didn't really care.

He wasn't a virgin and, even though he knew that the woman you chose to marry was supposed to come to your bed some virginal goddess, he didn't expect any level of purity from her.

The only reason that he was concerned, at this point, with figuring out what had happened to her, in fact, was because he wanted to understand what it had done to her…and really he wanted to understand what her four years at Sunny Meadows had done to her, and if he could undo whatever it was and get her to simply understand that he wasn't concerned in the slightest with any of the rest of it. He wasn't going to judge anyone for their pasts.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" He repeated.

Carol stared at her plate and he saw her shake her head slightly.

"Carol Ann…" Daryl said, forcing a bit of tension into his voice. "I asked you a question…you're supposed to answer me when I ask you a direct question. That's the only respectable way to respond to a question."

Carol looked at him, her eyes seeming a little brighter to him than usual and he wondered if it was because they were already late on her next dose of medicine…a medicine that the doctor had warned him with long term use could cause her some medical problems, but hadn't seemed to cause any damage so far.

"I'm not sure," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I learned to cook because…every wife needs to cook for her husband. She needs to cook things that he likes to eat…"

Daryl nodded his head.

He could see from her facial expression now that she wasn't lying. Before she'd been trying to lie, but now she was clearly telling the truth. She didn't fully remember, at least not right now, the details behind her culinary ability.

He cleared his throat.

"Eggs…over easy…toast…fried potatoes…sausage," he said, looking through the items on his plate. All were easy to prepare and relatively fast. "I like these just fine…but you never asked me what was my favorite breakfast. How'd you decide this was what you was gonna make?"

Carol looked at the plate, cut her eyes toward him, and then stared off over his left shoulder if he didn't know any better. She shook her head slightly.

"It's what I found in the kitchen," she said. "I thought that…since it was in there…you might have wanted it. I'm sorry…"

Daryl shook his head.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "You done good. Why eggs over easy?" He asked.

He was getting at something, but he almost didn't want to tell him where he was headed. He wanted her to figure it out for herself. He wanted her to put the pieces together…and he was certain she was capable of doing that…or at least she would be eventually.

She shook her head slightly at him again and looked back at him. He could tell from the condition of her eyes now that she was on the verge of being upset…and likely because she wanted to answer his questions but maybe truly couldn't.

"I just…it just seemed right," Carol said. "You don't like them?"

Daryl finished up what he was eating and wiped his mouth with the napkin before standing up. He reached and patted her on the shoulder and she flinched slightly, pulling away just a bit before she settled back into place.

"I like it just fine," Daryl said. "Just…if you was wonderin'…I like my eggs scrambled best."

Carol looked at him, not getting up from her chair at the moment, and nodded.

"Scrambled," she repeated. "I'll remember…"

"Good," Daryl said. He reached and picked up the pills. He offered them to her and she held them in her hand for a moment, looking at them. Daryl cleared his throat. "We're…uh…workin' a different dose for you, OK? So you gonna take this now for me, right?"

Carol nodded and swallowed the pills down with the glass of orange juice in front of her.

"Good," Daryl repeated. "Mrs. Greene's going to be here…any minute…to work, but 'member you can do whatever you want."

"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" Carol asked.

Daryl realized it might be a good idea to find her something to do.

"Tell you what…how about we see about you workin' some with Mrs. Greene? Make me somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"I'm not very good at sewing…" Carol started.

"Neither was Mrs. Greene when she started, I reckon," Daryl said. "Start small…make us some nice pot holders or somethin' for the kitchen?"

Carol nodded and smiled slightly.

"I could do that, if that's what you want," Carol said.

"That's what I want," Daryl said.

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"So…basically what I'm doin' is cuttin' her meds down," Daryl said.

He felt like he had lost his mind and he felt like the woman in front of him had all the reason in the world to call any and every authority she could to come and haul him right down to Sunny Meadows as a patient instead of an orderly.

But she was just smiling at him and nodding while he told her the slightly edited version of what was going on in his life…a story that had been easier to tell her than he'd thought it would be when he started.

"But…you just ring me and have them get me if anything…happens…or if she…" Daryl stopped and shook his head. He had no way of knowing what might happen. He surely didn't have any way of telling this woman what she might expect.

"I think I understand," Josephine Greene responded softly. "And…I think things should be fine. I'll keep an eye on her…and I'll have some down time to chat with her and she may be a very good student to learn some sewing skills. If she does well, I could always use the assistance."

Daryl sucked in a breath, somewhat relieved that she wasn't calling him insane.

"Thank you for that," he said. "I don't know if this is gonna work…but…"

"But you're going to try," Josephine said. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Yesterday she was just fine. She stayed in her room most of the time and she watched me while I worked for a while."

"She ain't talked about nothin'?" Daryl asked.

"No…she wasn't inclined to speak," Josephine responded. "But perhaps today she will be. And tomorrow even more. Don't worry about things here. I'll get in touch with you if there's something that I can't handle."

"I'ma be home as quick as I can," Daryl said. "Got a stop ta make after work, but it shouldn't take too long..."

"That's fine," Josephine responded. "Hershel won't pass by for me until he's off work…and if he arrives before you do, I'll ask him to wait until you get here."

Daryl thanked her and moved, opening the front door and gesturing for the woman to pass inside. She did and he pulled the door shut behind him, heading to work and hoping that things would only improve from here as he stepped her down from the medication and gave her more and more opportunity to think for herself.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl sipped the cooling coffee and rubbed his fingers and thumb into his eyes. He hadn't stayed up this late pouring over any kind of documents since he had taken the test for his job and studied everything he could think of out of fear that he wouldn't be able to pass the test.

But he'd passed the test. And he was reading everything in the thick folder he'd been provided like it might contain the secret to life.

And if it didn't contain the secret to life, maybe it would at least make his life easier.

He'd spoken to Randy about Carol's medication…about what he knew about her treatment…about anything that he, being one that often handed out meds, might know that Daryl needed to know.

But Randy hadn't been there since she'd been admitted. What he could tell Daryl was that he thought her dose might be too high…it might be overkill. He could tell him that his best strategy was to reduce her dose, by a half a pill at a time, one week per reduction. And he wouldn't see much of a change for at least a week as the drugs kept slowly reducing themselves in her system.

She might become hysterical. She might become disoriented. She might become depressed…or angry…or violent. She might react in a number of ways, it was all left to be seen. She might remember everything that she'd forgotten…she might remember it slowly, or it might hit her all at once…she might not remember a single thing.

But slowly she would start to become less the human puppet and more the…human.

Daryl had noticed a few changes in her since he'd been home, though Josephine Greene didn't report much of a change in the woman. She hadn't wanted to talk to her beyond telling her about Daryl…all the things that she knew about him, which couldn't have been much beyond a few things that he'd told her while they'd spent his breaks together at Sunny Meadows.

But when they'd finished dinner, Daryl hadn't had much trouble in convincing Carol that the dishes needed to "soak" for a while and she didn't need to wash them immediately. And then she'd surprised him by making a request of her own…her first real request. She wanted to take a bath.

So Daryl had taken his shaving razor from the bathroom and then he'd gotten her everything she needed. While she was bathing, he'd washed the dishes.

And when she'd started to protest the action upon discovering that they'd been washed, he insisted that he enjoyed such things sometimes…and that since he found pleasure in the activity, he didn't think he should be denied those things in his home.

And he'd convinced her to read a book while he'd taken care of a few things and then she'd requested something to sleep so he'd given her half of one of the sleeping pills and she'd retired to bed, thus leaving him the opportunity to read through the folder.

It wasn't as informative as he would have liked, but it was more than he'd had thus far. He'd sorted through documents that meant nothing to him to find that she had indeed been admitted and discharged to a home for women…a home for young mothers.

He'd seen the document where she was admitted, her signature on the paper…the person admitting her a "cousin" by the name of Edward Peletier Jr. He'd seen the document that she'd signed, essentially giving up any and all claim to the child that she would birth. But there was nothing else mentioned about the child beyond a report on the birth that focused more on her health during the process…the child's information gone from the file if it had ever held a place there like it had shared a place inside her body.

She'd been discharged from the home and her discharge dates from there matched with her admittance to Sunny Meadows.

She'd been transferred from one location to another, admitted without choice.

Terms scribbled on the sheet were some of the same that he'd seen before: _Hysteria, Mania, Depression, Psychotic Break._

Daryl sighed and scribbled on the legal pad he had. At the top he wrote Orphan…circled it twice…wrote Alone.

Because she was really alone. She wasn't alone like he and Merle had been left alone after their mother had passed. She wasn't alone with someone else in the world. She was simply alone. Hershel Greene had given him that information.

Then he wrote Fiancé on the paper. This Edward Peletier Jr. had been her fiancé. He'd been her cousin when she'd been pregnant, apparently. He'd been her cousin long enough to admit her to a hospital to do away with the child that he'd likely convinced her to have.

Because Daryl thought the drugs might do a lot of things, but he had a feeling that some of how she was now…some details of it…were hers before the drugs.

And he thought an eagerness to please might be one of them. He also thought that her belief system on pleasing a husband might be another. Clearly it would be her duty, as a wife, to please her husband…but Edward Peletier Jr. might have had his own list of requirements for what he expected from her…might have even had a list of what she had to do to finish the "trial run" before she became his official wife.

And those requirements were what likely had led to the child that she'd gotten rid of.

He wrote, below fiancé, Baby.

Because she'd had a baby…whether she'd wanted it or not, she'd had it. But Daryl doubted, while he was considering the whole thing, that Carol didn't want the baby. It had been Edward Peletier Jr…or Edward Peletier Sr., perhaps, that hadn't wanted the baby.

Carol had probably wanted this baby…as much as she wanted all the rosy cheeked babies on the obnoxious collages she made…as much as she wanted the babies she drew in any of the art projects she'd done at Sunny Meadows.

Carol had wanted this baby. And she'd given it up…she'd given it up to please her fiancé/cousin…to please the man who had likely engendered the baby. She'd given it up to please the man who was done with her before she even knew it because she was…what had she said to Daryl? Because she had _shamed_ him.

Daryl wrote below that Left.

_Abandoned, rejected, thrown away, used and disposed of…_any of them would have worked but he wrote simply "left".

Daryl got up from the table and walked over to the coffee pot, shaking it to check how much was left. He was doubting that he was going to sleep much at all tonight. He might as well finish off the coffee that he'd made.

What had they said? They'd reported hysteria…mania…depression…

And Daryl's mind couldn't help but flash back to Alice and what she'd said.

What if Carol had never been crazy at all? What if she had simply been _overemotional_?

Daryl thought it wasn't that hard to wrap his mind around when he looked at just the details that he knew and he filled in some of the gaps with things that it wasn't that hard to figure out.

Anyone would likely become so many of those things if they'd dedicated themselves to pleasing some asshole…doing every damn thing he wanted right down to sleeping with him, probably against her better judgement…just to become his wife. If they'd dedicated themselves to doing everything he wanted…and for what? The promise to marry him? The promise to marry him and have his children?

And then agreeing to give up one of those very same anticipated children…so that he would marry her…so that she would be pleasing to him? So that she wouldn't_ shame_ him?

But then there was no fiancé. There was no husband and there was no baby. There was just nothing…and she was alone again…but the real kind of alone. The truly alone, alone.

It was enough to cause anyone, especially a woman, Daryl thought, to become _overemotional_…which could be called all kinds of things…just like hysteria, depression, mania…

And a psychotic break?

Daryl knew enough about those to know that it might have followed it all. It might have followed all those emotions, all the forbidden emotions…it might have followed them because they were too much and nobody cared anyway. She was alone and nobody cared about her emotions…least of all the staff of Sunny Meadows.

And there was no one there to tell them how to treat her. There was no one there to tell them not to take away everything from her. There was no one there to tell them that she was allowed to feel like she wanted to feel about losing her baby, her husband, her dream…about losing everything, all at once.

Daryl sat back at the table and poured over the folder for a little longer, but there wasn't there that he hadn't heard or figured out by now. He had learned, apparently, about all there was to learn. And there was nothing there to tell him what to do or how to proceed from here because there was nothing there to suggest that anyone had ever thought about bringing her back before.

Like Axel had said, she was simply a lifer to them. She was complacent and they could keep her, tucked neatly in a corner forever…and no one would notice or care.

Daryl pulled an envelope from the folder, stuck haphazardly in the pages, and looked at it, but he was too tired to read it. He put it to the side and he organized the folder again, closing it and slipping the deli rubberband around it that was large enough to hold the contents together. He'd put it in his room for when and if he needed it again, but for now he didn't need it anymore. He'd seen all that he had to see for now.

Because no one had cared until now, but he cared.

And he'd step down the dosage and he'd deal with…all of it. He'd deal with whatever it was that Carol had to give him. And if he was right, she wasn't truly crazy. She was simply emotional and she'd been denied those emotions.

He decided that if her memory came back to her, he would handle those emotions with her as best he could, and if her memory didn't come back? He simply wouldn't use what he knew against her. She could start a new life if that's what she wanted to do when the drugs wore off. She could start a brand new life as whoever she was now. They could start it together.

Daryl took the folder and the envelope that he'd separated out and carried it to bed with him, his mind spinning with the weight of it all.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Randy had been right that Daryl wouldn't notice too much change in Carol's demeanor right away. It would take time for the drugs to leave her system.

There were small changes…but they were very small.

She was more conversational, she asked more questions, she laughed more often…but there was nothing that Daryl could really put his finger on and say that the one action or another was the shining example of how she was coming out from under the fog she lived under.

But, by the time that he'd reduced her another half pill, he could tell that she was starting to feel the effects.

And one day, when he got home from work, there was no doubt at all that she was starting to…change.

When he came through the door from work, he was met by Josephine Greene, which was nothing unusual, but the woman looked a little flustered. She held her hands out to him, shaking her head as she approached him.

"I must have said something," she said. "I never meant to upset her…"

Daryl felt his heart leap right into his throat and threaten to choke him. He told himself he was prepared for whatever might come. He told himself that he could handle anything that did come his way…any mood swing…any change in demeanor…but that was just something that he told himself. He wasn't convinced of it by any stretch of the imagination when it really came down to it.

He even became slightly panicked when the woman had questioned why they were having chicken for dinner one night when he'd told her that he was bringing pork chops for her to prepare.

"Where is she?" Daryl asked, trying to hold his voice steady enough that it wouldn't give away what he was feeling.

"She's in her room," Josephine offered. "I don't know what I said that set her off…we were just chatting and then she got up…she closed herself in her room."

Daryl could tell that the woman was flustered and thought that she was guilty for whatever was going on, and she may have triggered it, but he didn't think she was actually responsible for anything.

"It's fine," he said. "Just…lemme…"

But he never finished what he was going to say. He made his way directly to Carol's bedroom door and knocked at it. He waited a moment, but when there was no response, he knocked again.

"Carol Ann? You OK in there? I need you ta answer me," Daryl said.

He waited a moment, leaning his head toward the door, and he held up a hand toward the woman who was still trying to apologize for something that she wasn't responsible for. He waved at her and she hushed.

He knocked again.

"Carol Ann…I don't wanna do it, but if you don't tell me you're OK…you don't unlock this door right now, I'ma take it down," Daryl said, raising his voice enough to be heard but still trying to keep from scaring her in any way.

And a moment later, the door did open and Carol stood in front of the opened portion, blocking his view into the room.

Daryl scanned her quickly with his eyes. She was fine…at least physically she was fine…and that was his first concern.

"You can't come in my room," Carol said, shaking her head at him. "It isn't…it isn't proper for you to be in my room."

Daryl nodded his head at her.

"I weren't comin' in your room," Daryl said. "Not if you open the door…an' you did. I weren't comin' in. I told you I wouldn't."

She stared at him a moment.

"But…we gotta have some rules around here," he said. "And the first thing we gotta have is that doors stay unlocked. You can close it if you gotta…change…or sleep…or do whatever the hell else you do in private, OK? You can close it but you can't lock it…an' I ain't gonna lock mine either. That way if…one of us needed ta get in a room, we can, OK?"

"I shouldn't be living with you," Carol said. "I shouldn't be here…living with you like this. It's not right. She knows…she knows it's not right."

Daryl turned to glance at Josephine Greene who was a little more wide eyed than before. She shook her head and started to mutter something, but Daryl waved at her to quiet her again and she said something softly about stepping outside to wait for Hershel.

And Daryl thought that might be best so that he could have whatever discussion he had to have with her. He dismissed her quickly, thanked her for her time, and turned back to Carol who was still standing there, though now she looked almost like she was on the verge of crying.

"Why am I here?" Carol asked him.

"You wanna sit down? Talk about this in the living room?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head at him. No…she didn't want to talk about this sitting in the living room. She wanted to talk about it with her standing on one side of the threshold to her little room and him standing on the other side of it.

"You live here, remember?" Daryl asked. "Where else would you be right now?"

"I was…home before…I should be at home…it isn't right for me to be living here with you," Carol said. "It isn't respectable."

Daryl chewed his lip.

"Listen, Carol…where you were livin' before? It was a home, but it weren't a real home. It weren't your home. An' they were just…lookin' out for ya…takin' care of ya…but they got done takin' care of you an' it was time for you ta leave…so you come with me. Now I'm takin' care of you," Daryl said.

"I should be with..." she broke off.

"I come ta get you, don't you remember? We're gonna get married…an' I come ta get you because they were done takin' care of you there…brought you here so I could take care of you…brought you here ta live with me," Daryl said. "I come ta get you…an' you came with me."

"My parents are dead," Carol said.

Daryl wasn't sure if she didn't know it before, or if it was something she'd forgotten and it was coming back to her, but she said it like it was something that she'd only just learned. So he nodded his head slowly at her.

"You're right," he said softly. "They are…an' that's why I'm lookin' out for you."

"We're going to be married?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Yeah…we are," he said.

"But when?" Carol asked. "When are we going to be married? Because I'm living with you…and I don't even have a ring. She doesn't believe…no one will believe that we're going to be married…I don't even have a ring."

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head.

"I ain't bought you one yet," Daryl said. "Can't afford no real nice one, not right now. An' I didn't wanta buy you a cheap ring…I wanted ta…buy you a real pretty ring. One that was pretty enough for a woman as pretty as you…but I can't afford one right now."

Carol looked even more like she was going to cry, but she swallowed it back. Daryl almost wished she would cry, because it was an emotion that he hadn't seen from her yet.

"It doesn't have to be nice," Carol said, shaking her head. "I don't have to have a nice ring…I don't, really…"

Daryl didn't know how to respond right away and she spoke again before he could figure out what to say.

"Did you take it away from me?" She asked, almost like she was pleading with him. "Did you take it away because you don't want to marry me? I'm not good enough for you?"

Daryl tried ot keep his eyes from naturally widening as much as they wanted with the feeling that ran over him. He shook his head.

"Carol Ann…I ain't took nothin' from you," he said. "I never gave you a ring…I ain't bought one yet…but I surely wouldn't take it away from you if I had. It'd be yours…ta keep."

He moved toward her, just a step, meaning to take her hand, but she backed up, shaking her head at him.

"You shouldn't come in my room…" she repeated.

"I'm not comin' in," Daryl said coolly.

"You want me here…living with you…but I'm not going to give you anything," Carol said. "I'm not…not until we're married. So if you don't intend to marry me…people can say what they want…and she can believe we aren't going to be married…but I won't let you in my room."

Daryl nodded his head slowly at her.

"Carol…I don't want nothin' from you," Daryl said. "Not before we're married. Don't you remember? You ain't never even kissed me…not even offered me a cheek ta kiss…only let me hold your hand a couple times an' you let me kiss your hand…the day I asked you ta marry me."

"I said I would marry you," Carol said.

Daryl nodded.

"You did…you said you would marry me out there under that shade tree at the home you was at. You were leanin' up on it…an' I asked you if you'd marry me…I asked you if you wanted ta go with me…if you wanted ta go to my home…an' if you'd marry me…'cause then it'd be our home," Daryl said.

"And I said yes," Carol said.

He nodded again.

Carol looked at her hand again and then back at him, confusion spreading over her face.

"Why did you take my ring from me?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Carol Ann…I never took your ring from you," Daryl said. "I couldn't take it because I ain't bought it yet. I wanted you ta have somethin' nice…'cause I figured you was gonna keep it forever an' it oughta be nice. So I ain't bought it…"

"I don't need a nice ring," Carol said. "I don't…it doesn't have to be nice…that doesn't matter to me…"

Daryl hummed at her and reached his hand out.

"Come with me? Just for a minute?" He asked.

She reached her hand out to him and he pulled her along with him to the living room, gesturing for her to sit. Outside he heard the sound of a car pull up, but he never heard anyone knock at the door, so he assumed that Josephine Greene had told her husband that right now might not be the very best moment to pay a visit.

When Carol sat, Daryl fumbled around and found one of the sewing bags tucked to the side that Josephine left in the house. He dug around in it and came up with a skein of yarn. He brought it over and sat next to Carol, unrolling a little of the blue yarn.

"Gimme your hand," he said.

She held out her right hand to him and he shook his head.

"Other one," he said. She complied.

"What are you doing?" She asked as he knotted the yarn around her finger and produced a pocket knife to cut the sample loose. He rolled it off her finger and put it to the side.

"Gotta have somethin' to take with me tomorrow…" Daryl said. "An' I'ma get you a ring…it ain't gonna be nothin' grand…an' maybe one day I'll be able ta get'cha somethin' better…but I'ma get you one just the same…an' you can keep it. I ain't takin' it away from you…never."

He unwrapped another small length and knotted it more securely around her finger, cutting it loose as close as he could with the pocket knife.

"And that one," he said, passing her hand back to her with a gesture, "oughta hold you over until I get your ring, right? See? That one'll hold the place of the other one…an' then you can show anyone that don't believe we're gettin' married that we most certainly are…an' you gonna have a ring to prove it. An' you ain't doin' nothin' wrong…'cause I ain't comin' in your room…an' you ain't so much as let me kiss your cheek yet…so you sure ain't guilty of nothin' that they can say is improper.

Carol examined the little blue twist of yarn for a moment and then she looked at him and looked at the yarn.

"Is that yours?" She asked, pointing at the yarn.

"Why?" Daryl asked. "You want it?"

"I can knit…if you've got needles…I'm not very good at sewing, but I can knit," Carol said. "I learned it when I was just a little girl…it's nice, you know? It's relaxing. I knitted an afghan once…and my father liked for me to knit him cardigans he wore as smoking jackets…"

Daryl was taken aback at the moment. The little yarn ring had soothed her over quite well, and now she was telling him about her past…something she didn't do often. He offered her the yarn and got up, burrowing in the bag and finding knitting needles. He gave them to her and figured that he would simply replace them for Josephine…he'd buy all the yarn and knitting needles that she desired if it was something that she found relaxing…if it was something that was a pleasant tie to her past.

"Yeah," he said. "You do that…knit somethin' you wanna knit."

He passed her the needles and she looked, for just a moment, almost happy.

"You…feel better?" He asked.

She stared at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, the happy look fading. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have made a scene…I thought that you…took it…I got…confused…I thought that you took it because you didn't want to marry me. You brought me here…but you didn't want to marry me. I wasn't good enough for you to marry…"

Daryl shook his head.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "An'…if there's anybody here ain't good enough…I probably ain't good enough for you…but my word an' my name are about all I've got that's worth anything at all…and I don't go back on my word. I'ma marry you one day…soon…an' I ain't gonna take your ring away from you 'cause you gonna be needin' it…but I gotta get it first."

Carol smiled at him softly and nodded her head, but she didn't say anything.

"You sit here," Daryl said. "Knit something nice…something you wanna knit…I'ma make some supper."

Carol started to get up, to protest, and Daryl gently put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down, shaking his head at her.

"Remember? Sometimes I like ta cook…an' I been wantin' ta cook all day today. You ain't gonna try an' deny me that, are ya?" Daryl asked.

Carol started to protest again, but finally she shook her head and Daryl smiled at her.

"Good," he said. "You knit somethin'…I'll let you set the table when it's time ta eat…an' we'll have us a nice supper…ain't nothin' happened here for nobody ta sorry for…"

And he left her, starting a project or whatever it was that people did when they knitted…Daryl didn't know anything about it…and he thought about the fact that, for the first crisis they'd had, and he feared it was only one of many to come, things hadn't turned out so bad.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Here we go. Another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"So you're saying that she's nuts? Shocker…" Alice commented from across the lunch table.

Daryl shook his head at her and silently thanked Melodye for elbowing her.

"She ain't nuts…that's the thing," Daryl said. "She shouldn't be livin' with me when we ain't married…hell…everyone knows that. She's just realizin' it. An'…I think she kinda understands why the hell she's there…I mean her parents are dead an' she knows that now…but I don't think she really understands about this place…about how the hell she got here an' why the hell I brought her home from here."

"But you think she's going to understand it?" Melodye asked.

"I think she can," Daryl said. "Lil' more damn time…she can…but here's the question….what the hell does she remember?"

"So just ask her these things that you've got figured out. The baby…this what was the jerk's name?" Alice chimed in again.

"No!" Melodye said quickly. "No…you probably don't want to do that…I mean bombard her with it all. If she's going to remember it, maybe it's better for her to remember it at her speed. I mean…you're serious about this woman, right? You're serious about marrying her?"

Daryl nodded.

"I am…" he said.

"So…you haven't changed your mind about this?" Melodye asked.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself.

"No…I ain't changed my mind at all," Daryl said. "Couple weeks…even with all this goin' on…an' I care more now than I did. I just don't know what the hell ta do."

"You're doing all you can," Alice said. "I mean…until the meds are out of her system? You're not going to get the big picture of what you're dealing with. You can't rush it out…right? I mean you've got to step her down like you're doing."

"If you're serious about her," Melodye said, "then you've got plenty of time. Handle it as it comes…but don't lie to her. If she doesn't remember it, maybe there's a reason that she doesn't remember it? You know? I mean here we have a lot of patients with repressed memories…and it's like it's just too much for them to remember, so they don't. So if she doesn't remember, just leave it be…but just be ready to…stick it out when she does remember. And don't lie to her."

Daryl nodded.

"So…supper?" He asked.

"Soon," Melodye said. "Give her…another week or so…reduce the meds…and we'll see if she's ready to meet people."

"Just remember…I'm your sweet cousin Alice, just like we told the nice old Judge," Alice said, pursing her lips at him before she got up from the table. "I'm back to work…"

"Me too," Melodye said, getting up from her spot. Daryl reached out quickly, though, and caught her by the wrist. She stopped and stared at him.

"Do I give her the ring?" Daryl asked.

Melodye stared at him and then nodded her head.

"If you don't intend to take it away? If it's not a lie? Then give her the ring," Melodye said. "Just make sure you mean it when you do it…or you could do more damage than good."

Daryl nodded and let go of her wrist.

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Daryl stepped out on the porch with Josephine when he heard Hershel's car pull up. The man stopped the engine and got out, throwing a hand up at Daryl before he made his way to the porch and reached, picking up the bag that Daryl had put on the porch for Josephine.

"Good day?" Hershel asked, leaning and kissing the cheek that Josephine turned to him.

"Very good," she said with a smile. "I finished the three dresses for Mrs. Mullins.

"And Carol Ann?" Hershel asked, first looking at his wife and then at Daryl.

"Overall? One of the best days in a while," Josephine said with a nod. "There was a little…episode…but that didn't last long."

"Episode over what?" Daryl asked.

This was the first he'd heard of it.

Josephine glanced at Hershel and he nodded slightly at her before she turned to Daryl.

"It was nothing…she realized she had a few stitches off in what she was working on…and she thought that," Josephine broke off and frowned. "She got upset and thought that you were going to…overreact…to it."

Daryl felt his breath catch slightly. He'd done everything in his power since he brought her home not to overreact to anything…and though he hadn't been perfect, he was sure that he'd done nothing that would lead her to think that he'd be upset even over something like her knitting projects.

"How did you fix it?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

Josephine smiled and shrugged her shoulders gently.

"I just took the stitches out," she said. "I told her that you didn't have to know…if it was going to be a big deal, you just didn't have to know that she'd ever made the mistake…but there was something else."

Daryl cleared his throat.

"What was it?" He asked.

"Well," the woman said, her face dropping the smile and taking on a look of confusion, "it was…that I didn't know why she was upset at first because she was hiding it from me. It was like she thought that you'd be upset…but she thought that I was going to…"

She stopped and shook her head.

"I really don't know, it was just a feeling that I had," Josephine finished.

Daryl nodded his head and shot a look toward Hershel for any help he might offer if Josephine didn't want to share the feeling with him.

"What'd you feel?" Daryl asked. "'Cause I'm workin' on feelin's an' hunches a lot here. I'd appreciate anything you think you could tell me."

Josephine glanced back at Hershel.

"She didn't recognize me for a moment," Josephine said. "She thought that I was going to react to her as negatively as she thought that you were going to react. It wasn't until I started pulling the stitches and telling her that it wasn't anything…and it wasn't. It was a mistake that anyone could have made. It was only then that she seemed to even realize who I was."

Daryl sighed and nodded his head.

"Jo," Hershel said. "Do you think I could have a moment with Daryl?"

Josephine smiled again and nodded. She took her leave of Daryl and Daryl stepped down on the porch to wait while Hershel walked over to the car and opened the door for Josephine to get in and wait for him. Once she was settled and the door closed, Hershel walked back toward Daryl, his hands tucked in his pockets.

Daryl lit a cigarette and offered one to Hershel who accepted it and produced a match from his shirt pocket.

"You wanted a word with me?" Daryl asked.

Hershel nodded.

"The Peletiers," Hershel said. "There were…rumors that…Edward Sr. was fond of raising his hand to his wife."

Daryl felt the turn in his stomach that came with the words and his brain already anticipating what else he was likely to hear.

"There's a good chance, then, that Edward Jr. might have operated under the belief system that the best way to keep his wife in line would be with the back of his hand," Hershel said.

"A lot's startin' ta come back to her," Daryl said, swallowing and keeping his voice low. He'd brought food for Carol to prepare, but he was certain that one of these days she was going to gather up the courage to step outside, and he didn't want her to hear him revealing her secrets to people…secrets she didn't even know…when she finally did step outside the door. "Problem is that she's…well…I think she's mixin' things up…like she don't know what was then an' what's now…at least not all the way."

Hershel nodded his head.

"That's why I'm telling you this," Hershel said.

"But why would she be scared a' Miss Josephine?" Daryl asked. "I know she hasn't raised a hand to her…"

Hershel shook his head.

"No," Hershel said. "Josephine wouldn't dare to raise her hand to anyone…and my household isn't one where I believe in ruling with an iron fist. We've had our disagreements, but never anything that I needed to handle with my fists."

Daryl nodded his head.

"You think…she thought she was someone else?" Daryl asked. He thought that's what it was…but he wanted Hershel to share with him everything he might think. He wanted someone else to back up his opinion.

"If Mrs. Peletier lived in that kind of household? There's a good possibility that she would have raised her hand to the girl as well," Hershel said.

Daryl nodded again.

"Teach her how ta be a good wife," Daryl said.

"Something like that," Hershel said.

"Fine," Daryl said. "At least…I know, right? Least I know…I just gotta make sure she knows…knows that I don't aim ta…lay my hands on her…an' neither am I gonna let anybody else."

Daryl sighed.

"Son," Hershel said. "Are you still dedicated to this?"

Daryl nodded his head and chewed at the inside of his lip.

"More every day," he said. "What I've been able ta see…what she…what she's like in those times in between? The minutes where she talks to me an' I know…she's talkin' ta me? I really think I love her…an' I wanna see more of it."

"I have a feeling that it's going to get harder before it gets easier," Hershel said. "You could back out. You could take her back to Sunny Meadows."

Daryl shook his head.

"Harder or easier," he said. "I'm gonna stick it out."

Hershel sucked in a breath and glanced back toward the car where Josephine waited patiently.

"That's what I wanted to hear," Hershel said, chewing at the inside of his lip. "You've got the right attitude…and really? That's all that I think you're going to need to get you through whatever's coming…and to get you through married life."

Hershel chuckled and clapped Daryl on the shoulder.

"If we can help, though, don't hesitate to ask," Hershel said. "I know that Jo's quite fond of Carol Ann…and she admires what you're doing greatly."

Daryl nodded his head.

"To be honest? I'm just thankful for everythin' she's doin'," Daryl said. "Just…sittin' with her…it's helpin' me out more'n I can say," Daryl said.

"Very well," Hershel said. "Then we'll continue on as we are until you tell me that there needs to be a change of any kind."

Daryl thanked him and then gestured toward to the car.

"You best get her home," Daryl said. "I'm gonna check on Carol Ann…she likes our evenings together…don't wanna make her worry."

"Tomorrow I won't be working," Hershel said. "Do you still need Jo?"

Daryl shook his head.

"I'm off tomorrow too," he said. "We're spendin' the whole day together…thought we might go for a picnic if Carol's feeling up to it."

"That sounds nice," Hershel said. "Have a good evening."

Daryl said his goodbyes and watched as the old man headed for his car. Daryl threw his hand up at the woman waiting in the car and then slipped inside the house to make sure that all was well with Carol and that their quiet evening might have a chance of going off without a hitch.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: OK, just so everyone knows, we're about to have a pretty big time jump. I told you before that this story would have a couple, and this is the second one. There will be flashbacks that take place from here out, but no worries because they'll be clearly marked. **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think.**

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It took longer to get settled into the picnic spot than Daryl had anticipated, but it would be worth it if it was a nice day and Carol seemed almost instantly lighter than she had earlier in the morning.

Piece by piece, things were coming back to her, but they seemed to be coming back in pieces like dreams where she seemed unsure of what was reality and what was merely something that her mind thought might have happened. It didn't help much that Daryl himself was navigating uncharted waters with her because he didn't know any better than she did what was real and what wasn't.

But this morning she'd woken up upset. She'd started their morning off with something of an "attack" as far as Daryl would have explained it. She was remembering Ed Peletier Jr…or at least that's what Daryl thought it was. And this morning she'd finally made the full distinction between Daryl and "another man", though she didn't seem entirely ready to trust what she was thinking.

So he'd gotten her calmed as much as he could and he'd gotten her to get ready for the picnic. It had taken things off her mind while she packed lunch and he packed together everything from her knitting bag that Josephine Greene had for her…the repetitive action of knitting seeming to be something that kept her hands busy and made her mind clearer when she had the inclination to chat with him about her life.

And now that they were settled on the picnic blanket, Daryl thought that he might begin to pry the lid off the box of horrors to see how much she might remember about the man in her dream…the man that wasn't Daryl.

Carol sat on her knees, going through the basket to hand out food to them, and Daryl watched her.

She was much calmer now than she had been when she'd woken him up making a noise between a scream and a sobbing cry. Her hands had stopped shaking quite as badly too.

"Carol Ann…that man that you dreamed about," Daryl said. "Have you seen him before?"

Carol stopped what she was doing and looked at him a little oddly before she went back to what she was doing.

And suddenly he wondered…how much had she forgotten and how much was she guarding?

"Carol Ann," Daryl said, trying to keep his voice as level as he could while accepting the food that she offered to him, "you…might remember a lotta things, OK? An'…you ain't gotta be scared ta tell me nothin'…'cause it ain't nothin' for nobody ta get upset about. I ain't gonna get upset, an' you ain't gotta get upset…an' you don't gotta be quiet about things you wanna talk about."

She nodded her head in a non-committal way and continued fumbling with the food…obviously a little more agitated than before.

"Eat your lunch," Daryl said. "It's good…an' you didn't eat breakfast…gotta eat."

She sat back after a moment with her food, eating it like she wasn't enjoying it at all.

"I'm oddly proportioned," she said. Daryl raised an eyebrow at her, but she wasn't looking at him. "I'm ugly…and I have freckles…and I'm oddly proportioned. I shouldn't gain weight because that'll only make it worse...but I'll try…to make it better…for you."

Daryl swallowed through the egg salad that he was eating.

"You ain't oddly proportioned," he commented. "An' you ain't ugly…an' I like your freckles…don't guess there's nothin' you gotta make better…even if you could, but I don't think you could do nothing if that was the case."

Carol looked at him and didn't respond. It was written on her face now, though, that she was thinking about all of this. She wasn't simply rambling absentmindedly. She was remembering something or she was at least thinking about it. The lines between her eyebrows that were there now and had been missing during some of their conversations made a marked difference in Daryl's opinion.

"You're fine," Daryl said. "Just like you are…one a' these days…you gonna meet my brother. Then…"

Daryl broke off and chuckled, shaking his head.

"Then it's gonna be you that's sorry you ended up with me," Daryl said. "Merle's…well…he's not always easy ta deal with. But he's gonna like you, just as much as I do…and he's gonna be happy ta know you, even if you ain't always happy to know him."

Daryl had talked to her a little about his family, just enough to get her talking about hers a little, though there wasn't all that much to tell for either of them. Her family was gone…at least all of it that she knew about. And by now all that remained of Daryl's immediate family was his brother. There were some distant cousins…there was his newly minted pretend cousin, Alice…but there just weren't that many people that he bothered to make the effort to keep in touch with.

Still, he was sure that he knew Merle well enough that if he told him that this made him happy…that Carol made him happy and that he was sure that they were just going to be happier the longer they knew each other, Merle would be on board with it.

They weren't in the business of denying each other whatever it was that made them happy.

"Your brother is important to you," Carol said. "And that means that he'll be important to me…when will I meet him?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I gotta talk to him," Daryl said. "I'ma try ta see, though, when I can get him down here. He…moves around a lot. Works right now in North Carolina…but I'm hopin' he moves back to Georgia soon."

"But he'll come for the wedding, right?" Carol asked. "Of course he'll come for the wedding?"

Daryl nodded.

"If he don't come before then," he said, "then you can be sure he'll come for the wedding."

Daryl was quiet for a moment and then he spoke again.

"I was thinkin' about the weddin'," Daryl said.

He had Carol's undivided attention all of a sudden.

"I was thinkin' we could do…just somethin' simple? Get the judge to marry us, you know? Nothin' real fancy. I ain't one for big shows…" Daryl said.

Carol didn't look as disappointed as he thought she might. He wasn't sure when they'd get married or what she might remember by then, but he didn't want it to be one of those things where they had some kind of big white wedding and more of the population than they realized seemed to suddenly know more about her life than she did…and thought it was improper for a woman to marry in a big ceremony after the past that she had.

"Would that be alright with you? Nothin' too big? Just us an'…I don't know…my brother?" Daryl asked.

Carol considered it a moment and then nodded. She smiled warmly.

"That would be fine, Daryl," Carol said. "Whatever you want…it'll be fine. It's a wedding just the same, isn't it? It means the same thing."

Daryl nodded.

"Just the same," he said.

He cleared his throat and moved around, putting his trash back into the picnic basket. He dug through his pocket and came out with the ring box he'd picked up the day before after work.

He was disappointed in the ring, but the truth was that he simply couldn't afford more than the small, half carat diamond that he'd gotten…and even that was something he'd be paying on for a while. Still, he hoped it was enough for Carol, and he somehow felt like it would be since she was still wearing the yarn ring even though it was unravelling itself.

"Carol Ann," Daryl said, regarding the box himself instead of offering it to her at the moment. His stomach was churning over his lunch now as he considered it and verified for himself that he did mean it…he meant what he was about to say. "You an' me…we're gonna live for a long time…a real long time. An' we're gonna have…a whole lot more time in front of us than we got behind us. So…I want you to be my wife…an' I don't know when exactly…but one a' these days we're gettin' married…I might not be no good at bein' married."

He shook his head at her.

"I ain't never done it before…but I'm gonna promise you today that this ring…it ain't no nice one…but I'm givin' it to you ta keep, OK? Keep it forever…even if I get you a better one someday…you keep it forever…an' we're gonna try ta get ta know each other a lil' better every day. Try ta love each other a lil' bit more…every day…Do you want that?"

He'd sort of expected her to cry, or maybe be grinning from ear to ear, but she looked like she was stuck somewhere in the dead middle of those two emotions. Her eyes were wide and shiny with dampness, but no tears were falling. She sat on her knees, her hands folded in her lap.

"Well?" He asked. "You don't know me well…an' I don't know you well…it's only been seven or eight months since I first heard your name…so if you don't know if you're ready…"

"I like the idea," Carol said, "of spending forever with you. I…will try to be the perfect wife for you…"

Daryl chuckled.

"How about you just be you?" Daryl asked. "The rest oughta work itself out eventually."

Now her chin quivered, but she nodded at him and he opened the box for her, taking the ring out and beginning to apologize for it because it was a sore disappointment when he'd seen the other pretty rings that she could have had if he'd had more money.

But she stretched her hand out to him, her eyes still wide, the other hand covering her mouth.

And he rolled the yarn ring off her finger and replaced it with the diamond.

"I'm sorry…" he said again as she held her hand up to look at it.

"I love it," Carol said. "I do…thank you."

Daryl chuckled, his stomach still churning and his mind turning in disbelief and, at the same time, a happiness he hadn't even expected to feel with such impact.

"You think…it might not be too forward of me ta ask you for a kiss? Just on the cheek?" He asked.

And she lunged forward, for the first time, fully into his arms and surprised him by kissing him on the cheek first before she pulled away and allowed him…for the very first time of many, though he didn't know it yet…to press his lips to hers, softly.

And she allowed him, during the course of their picnic and their later stroll around the lake, to hold her hand and kiss her several more times.

And if Daryl was making the biggest mistake in his life, he was making it gladly because he was certain that life wouldn't be easy, but it would be everything he wanted it to be…and hopefully everything she might want it to be as well.

Together, they would deal with the past just as they would deal with the future…as it came.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Here we go, a little chapter to get us started in the next time jump. There will be flashbacks from here out, but I'll mark them when they happen. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

**10 YEARS LATER**

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"Carol!" Daryl called as he came through the house and into the kitchen where Carol was working on getting breakfast ready for him. "They somethin' I did that I don't get no coffee this mornin'?"

"No," Carol replied. "I just forgot…I'm sorry…there's a lot…I have a lot on my mind this morning."

Daryl leaned around her while she was shuffling food around to fix his plate and kissed her on the cheek.

"S'alright, I got it," he said. "Fix you one too?"

"Might as well," Carol commented. "Two strips or three of bacon?"

"Always three," Daryl said. "Unless four is an option…"

Carol chuckled.

"Four it is," she said. "I'm not too hungry today anyway."

Daryl fixed himself some coffee and took it, along with her cup, to the table to wait until she brought the plates and sat down with him. She brought the plates, but went straight back to the kitchen to start cleaning up, apparently distracted enough to forget that she needed to eat at the moment…and Daryl already had the gut feeling that he knew what was going on. It had been going on regularly since they'd gotten married, nearly nine years before.

He got up from the table and went into the kitchen.

"What's on your mind?" He asked to her back.

She shook her head.

"Don't shake your head no at me," Daryl said. "I asked you what's goin' on…talk ta me."

Carol turned around and she wore the deep frown that she got whenever she was trying not to cry. It wasn't going to be a great day…it would be alright, but it wasn't going to be great.

"Happened again," she said, shrugging slightly. "Always does…"

Daryl stepped forward and hugged her and she wrapped her arms around him tight.

Every month for nine years they'd hoped and prayed and everything else that she'd turn up pregnant. She wanted them to have a baby so bad that it consumed her and the only way that she got distracted was waiting for it all to begin again and dreaming that this month would be the one. And so far every month it had been a letdown.

Daryl wanted to have children with Carol, he really did, but if they never had children he could be fine with that. He wanted a baby…a dozen of them if that's what she wanted…just because she seemed to need it to be completely happy, and he wanted that happiness for her.

He'd taken her to doctors…more and more…even driving to North Carolina with her once to see a guy who claimed to be a specialist. But they all said the same thing…there was no way that they could explain why she hadn't gotten pregnant. She was healthy, she could have a baby…and when they spoke to Daryl in private about the fact that she had already given birth he explained that she'd had the baby when she was young, but she didn't remember it.

Because that was one thing she never remembered and Daryl thought it best not to tell her that she'd once had the thing she wanted so badly and it was gone from her for good.

He knew better, though, than to tell her that it didn't matter to him. He knew better than to say that if they didn't have children he wouldn't mind. He'd done that once, trying to make her feel better, and she'd had some kind of panic attack that was bad enough he'd been afraid she'd actually die…and since then he wouldn't dare to say something of the sort.

"Carol…I hate you bein' like this…what do you gotta do today? Maybe you just need ta…take it easy?" Daryl asked.

He never knew what to say or how to act when she was like this. It tore his heart out that he couldn't fix it and guarantee that she had a baby and that was the end of it.

Carol pulled away and shook her head, forcing on a smile. He wiped at her eye with his thumb.

"I'm fine," she said. "Andrea's coming…we're going to finish up those dresses…I promised they'd be done today. Then I've got to start getting things together to have dinner ready for you tomorrow night. You do remember it's your special day, don't you?"

Daryl smiled and reached for her again, hanging his arms loosely around her waist.

"I do…but, Carol, if you want we can do it another time," Daryl said. "Maybe Andrea ain't the best thing for you right now…"

"It's your birthday," Carol said. "And you're going to have a nice dinner…and that's all there is to it. And Andrea…and Merle…and…Alice and Melodye…and…"

"All the damn brood?" Daryl threw in.

Carol nodded her head.

"Everyone's coming for your dinner," Carol said. "It's set. And I'm not going to ruin that for you. I'll be fine. It just…hit me this morning and I just needed a minute, but I'm fine…"

Daryl frowned.

She was fine, but she wasn't fine.

Carol was always "fine". He was pretty determined that if she somehow cut off one of her own limbs she'd argue that she was fine to keep him from being worried. But he could tell that she wasn't fine because she never was when she knew there wasn't going to be a baby this time. And she was never fine with the stupid church women asked her time and time again when she was going to have a baby…shouldn't she have a baby by now…a woman her age should have already started their family…and so on and so forth.

Daryl leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

"You sure? I don't mind if you wanna wait," Daryl said.

"And what, Daryl?" Carol asked. "Tell them…that I couldn't have your birthday dinner because I'm not going to have a baby? I'm never going to have a baby, Daryl…never…and if I start cancelling things because of that then you and I are never going to do anything."

Daryl frowned again.

"You're gonna have a baby," Daryl said. "Might not be right now…but hey…after all this is done? You an' me gonna celebrate my birthday together, right? You an' me gonna…"

He broke off and chuckled, pulling her to him and rubbing his hands up and down her back. She laughed and pushed at his hands, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? Are we? We're having a late birthday celebration?" She teased.

He nodded.

"An' I mighta just been good enough that maybe God'll give me a late birthday present for the both of us," Daryl said.

Carol looked sad again, but she nodded.

"Maybe," she said like she didn't believe it at all. "Tonight we're going to study some, right?"

"Gotta," Daryl replied.

Carol nodded her head at him.

"Good…let's eat?" She asked.

He accepted the invitation to eat breakfast, not wanting to be late to work, and he pulled her to the table so that they could eat, him scarfing his food much faster than she was because he had to get out of the house…whereas her work came to her.

"Need me ta pick up anything today?" Daryl asked.

"I do!" Carol exclaimed, obviously having her memory of what she needed triggered by his offer to run errands for her after work. "I'm not going to be able to make it to the market…so I just need what you forgot to get yesterday."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"What'd I forget?" He asked. "I got all you asked me for…everythin' you asked for…"

She shook her head.

"Not quite," she said.

Daryl almost snorted at her facial expression. She was "forgetful", at least that's what they called it, so she was enjoying this moment when it was Daryl who was floundering to remember something.

"What'd I forget?" He asked.

"What did you ask me for? For your birthday? What did you want?" Carol asked, prompting him and he chuckled.

He made a face at her.

"I thought I weren't gettin' that for at least a week…an' I didn't know you wanted me ta get it at the market…" Daryl responded.

Carol rolled her eyes at him.

"For after dinner? To eat?" She said, ignoring his comment.

"Your strawberry cake," Daryl said with a smile.

She nodded.

"I got all that for you," Daryl said. "Brought it all in…I'm tellin' you…"

She shook her head.

"No you didn't, Daryl," Carol said. "What's the main ingredient in strawberry cake? What do I really need for strawberry cake to be strawberry cake?"

Daryl laughed as the realization spread over him.

"Strawberries?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah…OK…I'll get 'em…what else?" He asked.

"You need to go by the butcher's for the meat," Carol said. "I'd go but we'll never get those dresses done today if I do."

He nodded.

"Fine," he said. "I got that too…ain't no big deal."

He finished up his breakfast and drank down the hot coffee as though it weren't nearly as hot as it still was. He was just about to get up from the table when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps outside and Andrea came through the door with the youngest two of her brood, one riding on each hip.

Daryl got up quickly and offered to help her, but she shook her head, putting the oldest of the two down as he began his toddling walk around the house, always looking for things to get into.

Andrea and Merle had been married for eight years. They had five boys and Andrea was busy making what would likely be the sixth. Daryl had long since stopped trying to guess how far along she was with any of them since after the third baby he'd thought it was humorous that they waited to "tell everyone" until she was three months along and Daryl felt like he'd already known for two and a half months just by looking at her.

"Mrs. Jenkins has the other boys," Andrea said, "but she wouldn't keep Hank because he's got a touch of a fever and Allen is teething…she said she can't have that today. I'm sorry, Carol…"

Carol shook her head at Andrea.

"It's fine," she said. "They won't be too much trouble…do you want some breakfast?"

"I'd love some," Andrea said, coming to the table and sitting down, shifting around and settling the youngest of the babies in her lap.

Daryl got up. If Andrea had arrived it was his cue to leave because it meant he was running later than he'd imagined.

He leaned over and kissed Carol quickly before stepping around Hank and nodding at Andrea, giving her a look that he'd given her so many times before that she knew now what it meant without words. It meant tread easy…it meant that Carol wasn't feeling great…and it meant that once again they weren't starting some kind of brood of their own. Andrea flicked her eyes at him with understanding and then he took his leave of both of the women and stepped out the door to get started on his busy day, already looking forward to getting home and hoping that it was a good day for Carol…or at least the best kind she could have right now.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: So here's another little chapter. This one gets into Carol's head about this particular day so we see a little what it's like in her mind. **

**Plenty, plenty more to come, though! We've got a lot that's going to happen…right now we're sort of setting up and getting settled into this new era. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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While Andrea so generously offered to do the dishes for Carol, Carol stepped into the little room that she'd made into a sewing room…though Daryl had said it had been "advertised" as a home office when he'd bought the house…and got things ready to finish up the dresses that she had to turn out.

Josephine Greene had almost retired from sewing, but she'd left her clients to Carol and Carol was eternally thankful to the woman for her careful instruction. She'd taught Carol enough that she brought in almost as much as Daryl did doing everything from tailoring to custom work.

Andrea helped Carol as much as she could and got a cut from whatever she did…not that Andrea needed to work at all. Merle supported them quite well, though Carol suspected that the business he was involved in might very well have some elements that weren't on the up and up. But he'd worked his way from door to door salesman to a partner in the business.

It wasn't surprising though. What Daryl's brother lacked in formal education he made up in charm, charisma, and shockingly good common sense…all of which he only employed when it was to his benefit.

Andrea and Merle were happy. Andrea had come into the company as a receptionist, but it hadn't been long after that and she'd become Merle's personal secretary…and then his wife…and then it seemed that before you could so much as congratulate them on their marriage they had welcomed Merle Jr…the oldest of their boys. And from there? From there it had simply been one child after the other.

Carol knew that Andrea was tired of having children. She'd cried forever about it the last time she'd found out she was pregnant. But she couldn't say anything to Merle because his boys were his pride. He showed them off to everyone as though to say "look what I did…I made this…and these too." Merle would never even dream of hearing her out about doing something to avoid more of them…and so one part of the Dixon clan continuously multiplied.

And Carol did her best to comfort Andrea over the fact that she couldn't stop having children while she spent most of her time on Sundays asking forgiveness in her prayers at church for the envy that she felt for her sister in law.

It was hard to be sympathetic to someone who didn't want the children that they kept being given…strong, healthy, happy boys…when the only thing Carol felt like she needed to make her life the best life that anyone could imagine was to have a baby. Everything in her body ached for one and her mind was consumed by it so often that she couldn't hide it from Daryl.

And she tried to hide it, because part of her feared her own mind.

She feared her own mind because it was a place that was dark and didn't really feel like her own. She had a life once…a life that she could barely remember. It was a life that maybe she didn't want to remember, and what she did see in her memory came only in flashes or blurred pictures. It came in dreamlike sequences even if she was awake. And she saw herself and she saw what she thought she remembered, but it always seemed to her that she saw it as though she were seeing something happen to someone else…not to herself.

She'd been engaged to be married to a man before. A man who must have been something of an awful man…her memories of him never showed her his face, but she remembered him correcting her. She remembered him twisting her arms, bending her hands and fingers back…she could remember things like that despite their distance.

He'd left her, too, at an institution. He'd left her because he thought she was crazy…and she feared sometimes that she was crazy and that was why there was so much of her mind that she didn't understand and so much of it that she was afraid of.

She tried not to think about it. It didn't matter. The life that she'd forgotten, or at least forgotten for the most part, wasn't important. It wasn't really her life. It was someone else's life, even if that someone else was simply a younger version of herself.

Now she was married to a man that she loved more than she could even explain to anyone. He was a man that she was sure was perfect, or as close to perfection as humans could ever dream to come. He was kind and he was gentle and he loved her. He made her laugh and he laughed with her…he didn't fuss when she cried and he didn't try to control her the way that she knew that some women's husbands did. She wanted to work and she did. She liked driving and he'd taught her to drive.

Whatever she wanted, he made it come true to the point that she knew that she was spoiled. She was careful not to even mention that she liked things because, somehow, Daryl always made them appear for her. The only thing that he'd never made appear was the child that she wanted…and that wasn't his fault. It was hers. No matter what the doctors said…no matter what the specialists said…no matter what Daryl said…she knew that it was somehow her fault that they never had a child. And maybe it was something that she'd done in that past life that she couldn't recall. Maybe she was being punished for it…or maybe she was being punished for her secret bitter envy of Andrea and Merle's family.

Whatever the reason, it was the one thing she wanted that she couldn't ever have.

And the spoiled child inside of her raved and ranted that it wasn't "fair" to be denied that when she wanted it so badly…the spoiled child inside of her simply wasn't satisfied with everything that she did have because it wasn't everything she wanted.

She'd have traded any of the things that Daryl bought her…any of the nice things that other women commented on and envied…just to hold her baby in her arms. But that wasn't how it worked.

And so she tried to smile and nod and never let on how bad it bothered her when the older women clucked at her for not having children as though it was something that she'd chosen to do. She tried to ignore it when she heard other women…most of them with their children…tell her how wonderful motherhood was and how much she was missing out on. She tried to ignore it when she heard some of them say how wonderful Daryl was and how she should be happy to give him the children that he deserved.

She tried to ignore it all, but she couldn't really. And she was afraid that one day it might all come out…or it might drive her mad…if she wasn't already.

"Carol Ann," Andrea called coming through the house, "I'm going to feed Allen and put him in the bassinet…but can I put Hank in your bed for a nap?"

"That's fine," Carol called back. "Or you can make a pallet in here for him…if you're scared he might fall."

Andrea appeared in the doorway, both boys crying and tugging at her, one on her hip and the other hanging around her legs.

"That's probably a good idea…is there any of the medication I left here the last time? I think both of them could stand a dose and I could stand for them to be quiet…" Andrea said.

Carol shrugged.

"I don't know where you put it," Carol said. "If you left it here, it's here…there aren't any other kids here to take it."

As soon as she said it, Carol recognized how it came out and it flashed into her mind that maybe she ought to apologize for the way that she'd spoken…but she didn't.

Andrea didn't say anything. She stared at Carol…and Carol didn't have to look at her to know it…but then she spoke more to herself than to Carol.

"I think I left it in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom…I guess that's the best place to look," she muttered.

Carol sucked in a breath and continued what she was doing, finally ready to sit down and start working on the dresses. They had to be done today and that meant that they would be done. She was never late with her work…it was something that she prided herself on. She was fast and she was good. That was something she had.

She listened, each time the machine she worked at stopped humming, to the sounds of Andrea trying to get one boy down while the other cried, obviously needing or wanting something from her. She could help her…and often times she did…but today she was too low for that. She was too busy trying to put on the face that she was fine and that she wasn't heartbroken…she was too busy trying to be those things to keep from crying and screaming and having the fit that she wanted to have that it should be her…she would be happy to hear her children crying for her attentions. She would be ecstatic to hear them fussing because she wasn't paying them enough attention because she was busy with another.

But she wasn't going to have a fit. She was going to hold it together and she was going to apologize to Andrea for snapping at her rudely. And she was going to make dinner for Daryl…pork chops because that's what she had in the kitchen to make…and she was going to help him study for his test when he got home…and this day would end.

And tomorrow would be a good day…a great day. Today had simply started out with disappointment and that was why it was harder.

Carol got up from the machine, feeling a little calmer simply from having talked herself down, and went about making a pallet for Hank to nap on out of some extra blankets that she had in the linen closet. She was coming back with the last one to soften the pile and bumped into Andrea, carrying the little boy who seemed to already be falling asleep against her chest, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

"You don't have to do that," Andrea said, following Carol to where she was making the pallet.

Carol smiled and shook her head.

"I don't have to," she said, "but I want to. It should be comfortable for him…I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"What?" Andrea asked, feigning that she hadn't noticed the act. "I didn't take it that way…promise."

"Can I lay him down?" Carol asked, offering her arms out.

Andrea eased the boy over to Carol. He came willingly because she loved the boys as much as she could. She took care of them from time to time when Andrea needed the help. It wasn't their fault that she couldn't have children…and she did love them.

Carol eased him down on his pallet while Andrea went to work then, and she tucked him in and sat beside him on her knees for a moment, trailing her finger around his face while his eyelids fluttered, the fever Andrea had mentioned being noticeable to the touch.

And once again…like she did every time that she kept the boys…Carol said a silent prayer that it would be her. That one day she'd make up for whatever it was that she'd done…whatever it was that had offended God…or whatever it was that made her barren…and she would be tucking her own little one in to sleep in the bassinet that they kept at the house, or on a pallet, instead of one of her nephews.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Can I help?" Daryl asked while he sat at the table, where he'd been told he had to stay, and Carol went about cleaning up after the dinner party.

"No…birthday rules," Carol responded. She came over, offering him a saucer with another slice of the strawberry cake.

"We could go to bed early if you'd let me help," Daryl responded, catching her hand. She leaned down and kissed him and when she pulled away, she smiled at him.

"We can't do anything anyway, remember?" She responded. "No…I'll clean up and you enjoy your cake. I hope the dinner was good…"

"Best birthday dinner yet…" Daryl commented.

Carol wandered away from Daryl to go and start washing the dishes while he ate his cake. He hated when she put in place the "rule" that he couldn't help with something. She took it, often, as him trying to do things for her…but really it made him uncomfortable to simply sit idly by while someone else did everything.

"Daryl…was it really good? I didn't do anything…" Carol started, but broke off and never made any effort to continue.

But she didn't have to. By now Daryl was pretty sure that she didn't have to ever use complete sentences for him to understand what she was asking.

"Carol…the dinner was amazing, this cake is so damn good I didn't want anybody else ta eat it…an' you were so nice to everyone didn't nobody wanna leave," Daryl said. "Whole thing was good…but I was serious about the cake…"

Carol laughed from the kitchen.

"And that's why there's a second one," she said. "Just for you. It's in the cake dish over here."

"You spoil me, woman!" Daryl said, getting up and taking his plate to add it to the sink. He wrapped his arms around her back and kissed her neck. "Lemme help? Please?"

"It's your birthday…" Carol said. "You don't clean on your birthday."

"It's my birthday an' I should get ta do whatever I want…an' clean is what I wanna do right now." Daryl said. "It's late…an' I really want us ta go ta bed."

Carol turned around and made a face at him and he smiled at her.

"Didn't say for that…just wanna sleep," Daryl said. "I'm gettin' older…gotta sleep more."

Carol sighed.

"If you want to help, can you put the little table in the garage? And take care of the garbage?" She asked.

"Got it," Daryl declared.

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When Daryl got to work the next day he accepted a belated birthday wish from Axel who hadn't been working the day before and got right on his rounds.

But his work here was nothing but temporary at this point. He knew it and everyone else knew it too. Sunny Meadows was on its way to being shut down and Daryl figured that at best they all had about six months more before it was entirely out of business.

There had been a good number of law suits put out on the place for everything from malpractice to patient abuse. Many families, even if they had no suit to win, had moved their loved ones to a place that was two towns over. The only ones left, really, at this point were the lifers…and most of them were only there because there was no one that gave a damn about them. They'd be moved by the state, eventually, when the establishment went under.

And Daryl was always struck by the idea that these people remained and no one cared, but he was thankful at least that Carol wasn't one of them…something she could never say again was that no one cared about her because he loved her enough for anyone else that might have mattered.

He didn't plan to stay at Sunny Meadows, though. Thanks to Alice and Melodye, both having moved on from the place some time back, Daryl was going back to school. He was studying now to be a RN and he'd be done before the place sunk. He was taking his last class now, a night class, and then he could move on to better things.

Melodye had been going to school longer than Alice and Daryl both. She'd left Sunny Meadows not long after he'd taken Carol from the place and had decided that she wanted more out of life…and she could have it. She worked and went to school in the evenings. Alice had followed suit, though they were going for different things, things that put them both in the position of being some of the few women in their classes, and in the position of being looked at sideways by most of the people who knew them and thought that, at their ages, they should be married and working on families…not attempting to get education for jobs that were better suited to men.

But they had planted it in Daryl's mind that he might want more, and Carol supported him. So the three of them went to their classes together and he studied with Carol on the nights that he needed to study. And he was proud of himself. With each class he felt more and more confident…more and more like he was doing something with his life.

And his life was a good life…a good life that would only get better when he moved on from this dead end job and stepped up to a better position at a better institution…a place where he could really help people instead of being a glorified maid, which was how he was beginning to feel about his life at Sunny Meadows.

"Good birthday, man?" Axel asked, walking through the nearly abandoned hallway with Daryl.

"Best," Daryl said. "Got some cake…brought you some for lunch. Carol's strawberry cake."

"Good stuff!" Axel commented.

Daryl chuckled.

"Damn sure is," he said. "You on full day today?"

Axel nodded.

"Got an interview tomorrow, though," Axel said. "Down at the hospital. Might just be outta here before you are."

Daryl had been trying to get Axel to go back to school too, but it hadn't worked up to now. Axel wasn't interested in it.

"You might move on before me," Daryl said. "But a couple months and I'm moving on…right on to bigger things…better things."

"Good job, man," Axel said. "You said you'd do it. Looks like you were right."

"Always am," Daryl said. "I do what the hell I set out to do."

"That you do…" Axel commented. "See you at lunch."

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"Andrea said that she heard that if you…" Carol turned around to look at Daryl over her shoulder from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, combing her hair, "put your legs up…you know after we make love? It can work."

Daryl was already settled into bed and waiting her to finish the complicated dance she had constructed over time to get ready for bed. He rubbed his hand over his face.

"Fine," he said. "So we try that…hell…"

He broke off with a laugh.

"Get some good quality rope an' we'll string you right on up from the ceiling…by your ankles…" He snorted with the image he'd created for himself and she frowned at him.

"I was being serious," Carol said.

"Me too," Daryl said. But he knew that she didn't appreciate joking when it came to having any kind of discussion about having a baby. She could laugh about just about anything else in the world…but that was no laughing matter.

Daryl sighed.

"Carol, we'll try it," he said. "But I just don't know if it'll work…"

"It makes sense," Carol said. "It would keep things…together…I don't know, Daryl."

"Hey! We'll try it," Daryl said. "Couple a' days…we'll try it. No big deal, right? We've tried stranger things than that."

Carol crawled onto the bed, her soft cotton nightgown twisting around her and she leaned over Daryl, looking down at him. He raised a hand and rubbed her cheek.

"We'll try it," he said. "But I still think that the answer might be what that doctor in Rock Hill was sayin'…said that you needed to relax. Gotta take it easy…keep ya feet up sometimes…you stressin' yourself out an' that ain't helpin' things. Can we try that? You just take it easy? Maybe take some time off? Some time away from Andrea…she don't mean ta upset you, but she does damn near every time she's over here."

Carol bit her lip and shook her head.

"I can't take time off from my work, Daryl," she said. "I need it…you know that. I need it! If I didn't work what would I do? I can't clean the house all day, every day. If I didn't work…I'd do nothing but think about the children we're never going to have."

Daryl shifted around and sat up enough to push her back so that she was sitting normally on the bed. He picked up her hand and kissed it…something he often did since it was the first tiny show of affection that she'd ever allowed him and for that he enjoyed the gesture more than he'd ever thought me might.

"I didn't mean ta say you couldn't work," he said. "Don't stop that…it makes you happy. Maybe you just need ta not set no hard deadlines? Nothin' you need Andrea for. Take your time an' really enjoy what you're doin'."

"It's not Andrea's fault that she's…normal," Carol said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Carol.

"What'd I tell you about sayin' that?" He said. "There ain't a thing that's wrong with you…an' I know it upsets you when I say this, but I mean it the best way I can, Carol. If you can't never have a baby…there still ain't nothin' wrong with you. If we have an even dozen a' kids I'ma love it…an' if we don't have a single one…I'ma be just fine. Long as we're doin' it? It's gonna be good."

He could tell that she was fighting crying. She always looked like she was on the verge of choking when she was fighting tears.

"I'm not normal…" Carol said, her voice coming out shaky.

Daryl chuckled and shook his head.

"No…you ain't," he said. "Whole lot better'n normal."

He sat the rest of the way up and held his arms out to her and she sunk into them, moving practically into his lap.

"Carol…you ain't thought about us adoptin' no more? Get us a kid that someone else don't want?" Daryl asked.

"I want us to have a baby," Carol said.

"What if I was to buy you one? Gotta be someone willin' ta sell one…I'm serious…we could steal this one a' Andrea's…she can't keep up with the ones she's got barely…wouldn't miss it," Daryl said, hugging her to him.

Carol laughed lightly and Daryl smiled, pleased that he'd at least gotten her to lighten up a little, no matter how little it might be.

"I want us to have a baby," she repeated. "I just don't understand why. Why are there people who have them and don't want them and we don't have any?"

"Life don't always make sense, Carol Ann," Daryl said. "We just take it as it is…but what if we were ta get one a' them kids? Two of 'em…six of 'em if you want? Then if we have a baby, well we just got more…but then you ain't gotta stay up not one more night like this. You can stay up at night then because you got seven of 'em ta shuffle around."

She didn't respond this time. This time she just pulled away from him and brought her lips to his and he kissed her back, holding her still in his lap.

He meant it too…if she'd just say the word, he'd find a way to buy her all the kids she wanted. He'd buy her as many as she might want.

He'd worried, though, that adopting might be difficult given her medical history, even though he wanted to have faith that they'd rather give her a baby to love than to deny her and a kid both the chance at sharing that love. But life didn't always make sense…and systems very seldom even made as much sense at life.

And Carol had admitted more than once that she was afraid that she would love a child…just to have someone take it away from her.

Daryl didn't want to admit, though, that he was afraid it was a chance they might have to take if they wanted to ever have children…because so far nothing else had worked for them and it wasn't for lack of trying or desire.

Finally she pulled away and he pulled her back, kissing her again.

"You've got to sleep," she said, pulling away again. "You've got your test…you need your rest."

"You too," Daryl said. "No stayin' up all night mopin' about things?"

She nodded.

"Hold me?" She asked.

Daryl smiled.

"Every night," he said, moving back to his position in bed.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**There's about a month/two month time jump from the last chapter, but no worries…you missed nothing important. ;-)**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.**

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Daryl was the last to come out of the building. He had just taken his final exam for his class…if he passed it, he was done. He would be an RN…and it was all he could do not to absolute run through the parking lot with excitement.

Alice was leaned against his car, smoking a cigarette. She and Melodye both had likely been waiting on him for some time, but he hadn't wanted to rush and he knew that they'd understand…he always understood when he had to wait on them to finish their things.

Melodye wasn't in sight and Daryl called out her name as he approached as a way of asking Alice where she might be.

"In the car," Alice responded. "How did it go, champ?"

"Don't know," Daryl said. "Won't know for a few days."

"But you feel good? Confident?" Alice asked.

Daryl nodded and smiled.

"I think I did it," he said. "Don't wanna get my hopes up, though…you know?"

"Understandable," Alice responded.

Daryl lit a cigarette then.

"Mel alright?" He asked.

"Just tired," Alice said. "She was up studying most the night and then she worked today…so she's just beat. Probably asleep by now."

"I can smoke in the car," he said.

"She can wait," Alice responded. "I wanted to talk to you…"

Daryl furrowed his brows at her because the change in her tone of voice told him that whatever it was she was going to have to say to him was something that she was at least a little serious about.

"What's up?" He asked.

"I didn't wanna say anything before you went in there," Alice said. "I didn't want you distracted before your big show…but I think you might want to know this…"

"Al…spit out whatever you gotta say?" Daryl responded.

Alice sighed.

"OK," she said. "A couple of days ago at Dr. Finney's office there were a couple of kids that came in…some kind of virus running through the children's home. You know the one off of Waxahatchee Road?"

"Only one," Daryl said. "Only one in the area at least."

Alice nodded.

"Well…while I was going through their information, you know…filing everything away, something caught my eye," Alice said. "One of the kids that came in…her name was Sophia McAlister."

Daryl shrugged at her.

"And?" He asked.

Alice screwed her face up in the same way that she had done the day that she'd backed his car into a stone partition and dented the hell out of the fender when she was too damn distracted by something to realize she was going in reverse.

"What, Alice? What the hell is it?" Daryl asked.

"The name on her information said that her mother was…Carol Ann McAlister," Alice said.

Daryl felt his stomach churn and his breathing pick up.

"Don't mean nothin' Al…" he said.

"There wasn't a name for the father," Alice continued. "Just the mother's name…she's an orphan, Daryl. This kid…she's been at the home…Daryl…I don't think that baby's dead after all."

Daryl dropped the spent cigarette in the parking lot and started a pacing walk around the back part of the car, unable to avoid the exercise that his feet seemed to need. He lit another cigarette and tried to process the information.

But at the moment he simply couldn't.

"Daryl…what if this is her kid?" Alice asked.

Daryl's hands were shaking slightly and he turned around.

"That baby's dead, Alice," Daryl said. "We thought…that baby's dead…it couldn't be just…."

He stopped and ran his hand through his hair, tugging on it slightly.

"Al…can't be just…thirteen miles from our house?" Daryl responded, shaking his head at Alice. "Carol's baby can't be…thirteen miles from our house! And in a damn orphanage! That wasn't what the hell she wanted for it! She wanted it to find a good home! She wanted it to be…"

He shook his head.

"Can't be her kid," Daryl said. "Can't be…she had a boy."

"We never knew what she had," Alice responded. "We never knew at all. All we knew was that she wrote in that letter it was a boy…but none of her records ever listed the sex of the baby. Daryl…I think it's her kid. It's a girl…and it's hers."

"How can you know, Alice?" Daryl turned around.

He realized he was very nearly yelling at the woman, but she seemed unphased. He wasn't really yelling at her, and she knew that.

"She's a pretty little girl," Alice said. "She's…very pretty…she looks like Carol. It's Carol's daughter."

"Carol's got a little girl?" Daryl asked.

Alice nodded her head.

"A little girl…a little girl thirteen miles from our house? We could…she could have her baby…a little girl…" Daryl responded.

"They named her Sophia," Alice said, clearing her throat. He heard the variation in it and wondered if he got close enough to Alice he might see that she was crying. "Daryl…they named her Sophia…and she's right there…and she doesn't have anyone."

Daryl couldn't even begin to sift through everything that was going on in his mind all of a sudden. His earlier excitement over the test seemed so distant that it was like it hadn't even happened to him.

"Carol's baby…ain't dead," Daryl said.

"And she isn't a baby," Alice said. "Daryl…all these years…she's grown up. She's fourteen, Daryl."

The thought of that slammed Daryl as hard as anything else had until this moment. Sophia. Carol had a baby girl named Sophia, and she was fourteen years old. She was fourteen years old…she'd spent all those years in an orphanage…while her mother had spent all those years mourning a child she didn't remember having, a child she thought she couldn't have, so close to her.

Daryl stopped pacing.

"What do I do?" He asked. "What do…I do…Alice?"

"I can't tell you what to do, Daryl," Alice said. She shook her head at him. "Mel…she thinks that…"

"I don't know if I need one a' Mel's half baked theories," Daryl said.

As soon as he said it, he was sorry. Melodye's theories got a lot of laughter from all of them, but she was damn near done with training to be one of those doctors that worked with people who had mental problems. She was going to be one of those doctors like the ones that worked at Sunny Meadows…except that Melodye had a lot of hope that she could actually fix things one day, instead of just rendering her patients the walking dead like they'd tried to do to Carol and like they'd done to so many others.

"I didn't mean that," Daryl muttered after a moment.

"I know," Alice said. "Why do you think Mel's in the car? I know you, Daryl, and you can't hurt my feelings…Mel's a little more sensitive."

Daryl cleared his throat and nodded.

"What does Mel think?" He asked.

Alice shrugged.

"She's always thought that you were looking in the wrong place to figure out why Carol's never had children," Alice said. "She's always thought that it might be a mind thing…that it might be something that she's feeling but repressing…maybe she doesn't even understand it herself."

"That wouldn't stop her from getting pregnant," Daryl said, shaking his head. "She's fine physically…"

"That's the point," Alice said. "Wake up, Daryl! Nobody knows what it is, but there's just as much a chance that it's mental as anything else!"

"What she say about this kid?" Daryl asked.

"She thinks that having the ba…Sophia…back might let Carol deal with her demons, once and for all," Alice said. "It might let her clear things up. It would give her back what she lost…and it would give her a chance to make up for it or make amends or whatever it is that she feels like she needs to do."

Daryl cleared his throat.

"She don't remember this baby," Daryl said, shaking his head. "She don't know she had it…an' ain't me nor nobody else said nothin' about it. What am I gonna do? Go get this kid? This…fourteen year old? She's damn near a woman! I'm s'posed ta go get this kid an' then tell Carol hey you had this kid that I forgot ta mention all this time…oh…an' everybody else knows about it too…but we figured she was dead an' there weren't no need tellin' you about it…but here she is…not dead after all?"

Alice chewed her lip.

"I'm not saying that's the best approach," Alice responded. "But…don't you think that Carol would want this little girl back? This is the woman who has made herself ill because she doesn't have a kid…and she's got a kid! You'd keep her from having that?"

"Al…what do I do?" Daryl asked again.

Alice shrugged.

"We'll figure it out…you'll figure it out," Alice said. "You've gotten Carol through so much already. This is…just another little thing. And Daryl…you're smart…and you have done so much…really, so much…for Carol and it's all been right…"

"You think that's how she's gonna see it?" Daryl asked. "When I tell her I ain't told her 'bout her kid? When I tell her…that I'm so damn dumb I didn't…bother checkin' ta see if I could find her kid? Thirteen damn miles from where I live?"

He felt like he was suffocating. He was torn between wanting to just bring the kid home…go and get her tonight if they'd let him and offering her to Carol as the answer to everything she'd ever wanted that he couldn't give and between knowing that she could very well not handle this well at all…and that she might never forgive him.

And he wasn't sure that he could live with her never forgiving him.

"We all thought the child was dead, Daryl," Alice said. "Even…if she wasn't…we'd have thought she was adopted. That's not your fault…and Carol's going to see that."

"An' ain't not a damn one a' us ever said…Carol you might wanta know that you're thinkin' you're barren but you ain't…'cause you had this kid an' we all know it," Daryl responded. "What about that, Alice? Think she's gonna up an' over that?"

Alice chewed furiously at her lip and she started her own pacing walk.

"She'll get over that," Alice said. "She will…right? She'll understand we did it to try to protect her. She'll understand."

Daryl swallowed hard.

"An' if she…loses her mind again?" He asked.

Alice stopped walking, but she didn't respond immediately.

"You don't think that would happen, do you?" Alice asked. She turned around and faced him. "I never believed she lost her mind before…and neither did you…it was just too much and she…didn't have anybody. Now she's got all of us…she's not alone anymore, Daryl. She doesn't have to handle it alone because she's got everyone…and she's got you."

"I can't lose her, Alice," Daryl said. "I…won't lose her."

Alice nodded.

"She won't have to do it alone. Carol's never alone anymore…but this kid? Sophia? She's pretty alone…" Alice said. "I can't help but think that Carol…"

She shook her head at Daryl and closed the gap between them, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement.

"Carol knows what it's like to be alone. She would never want that for her daughter…no matter how difficult it might be for her," Alice said.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter moving us along.**

**I just wanted to remind everyone that this story is for entertainment value. I've done some research on these things, but nothing thorough and extensive. That means that I don't pretend this to be absolutely factual. It's meant to entertain. Suspension of disbelief is required and appreciated.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

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Carol was completely out, but Daryl couldn't sleep. He hadn't said anything at all about the child and his new information because he had no idea what to say.

It wasn't exactly fair to say they'd all been living a lie, but they'd certainly all been living by omission. Believing the baby was dead, it just seemed like it would be unnecessary stress on her to tell Carol that she'd had a child and that she'd lost it.

So they'd simply chosen not to give her that information. They'd just decided that leaving it alone and dealing with it if she were ever to remember anything about it would be best.

And now Daryl was feeling surer and surer that this hadn't been the best idea at all.

There was no telling how Carol was going to react to any of this. If he chose to try to do something about the child, that meant that Carol was going to have to face, all at the same time, the fact that she'd had a child, the fact that she'd been forced to give it up, the fact that she was getting it back but it was very nearly grown and she'd missed its life, and the fact that everyone knew about the situation before except her.

But, if Daryl didn't do anything about the child then he'd have to live with the guilt of knowing that Carol's child…Carol's daughter…was possibly living a much less than ideal life and he had been the one to make the decision, alone, that it would be that way…that keeping Carol from knowing everything was more important than the girl's well-being.

And if Carol ever did remember the child? How could he ever admit that he'd known it was alive, known how to find the girl, and had chosen for her that she would never know anything of her daughter?

Daryl eased out of the bed and made his way to the sewing room that Carol practically lived in. He pulled the footlocker from under the table in the corner and picked the key for it out of its hiding place on the top shelf of the bookcase that was loaded down with just about everything that they had no other place for in the house.

Carol had never tried to go into the footlocker, and she really had no need to desire access to it. It was filled with documents, as far as she knew, of little importance to her without Daryl around. They were simply personal documents for the both of them…a safe place where he would always know where everything was in the case that they needed them.

He unlocked it and dug out what he needed. A white envelope that he'd taken out of her file so very long ago.

He'd read the letter only once or twice before and tucked it away. The child that it was written to would never read it, or so he thought, simply because that child no longer existed.

_My precious little darling,_

_I can only hope that you'll read this one day and that you'll forgive me, though I'm not worthy of your forgiveness. I must try, though, to explain to you why it is that I can't be your mother even as I enjoy the feeling of having you so close to me for just a little while more._

_I love you even though I'm forbidden to love you. This is not your fault and it has never been your fault. It is because of the shame that I brought on your father that I cannot keep you. It is for the best that I let you go because you're forever going to be stained with my shame if you stay with me. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for so many things, but for that most of all. _

_The only chance that I can give you to be free from that is to give you a life where you are free from me and you are the child of a deserving mother. _

_I know that you will be perfect and precious. I know that your parents will love you enough that you will never miss me. This won't make me sad. It means that you love those that you are with and that you are loved, so you must never worry about me. I promise you, though, that I will think of you often. You will always be in my heart. _

_Your father and I are not married yet. To keep you would be to bring shame to your father and his entire family and without your father I wouldn't be able to care for you. I wouldn't even be able to care for myself. So, you see, I have no choice. I have no choices at all. The best that I can do for us both is to let some nice family have you. _

_I hope that you have a mother and a father that love you as much as I do and as much as I wish that I could show you. I hope that one day you can forgive me. _

_I will love you forever,_

_Your mother, Carol Ann McAlister_

Daryl folded the letter back up and returned it to its envelope. He sat back in the green, straight back chair and pressed his fingers into his eyes.

If the child were happy with its life, it would change things considerably, but leaving her alone in a home was just as big of a sin as leaving Carol in Sunny Meadows.

That wasn't the life that sixteen year old Carol would want for her daughter, and he was sure that it wasn't the life that his wife, sleeping in the other room, would want for any child that she had or might ever have.

She wanted them to have a life filled with love. She wanted them to have a full life with a good family. And when the baby had been born, fourteen years ago, she didn't have that to offer the child.

But they had that now. They could offer this girl…Sophia…love if nothing else. They could offer her a family and a home.

Daryl knew what he had to do, even if he had no idea how to make it work.

"Daryl?" Carol called, her voice thick.

"Yeah? Comin'," Daryl responded.

"What's wrong? Are you OK?" Carol called.

"Fine," Daryl said. "Go back ta sleep…I'm just…I'm comin'…go back ta sleep."

He returned the letter to the footlocker and returned the key and the footlocker to their normal places before he switched off the light and headed back to bed, curling his body around Carol's warm body as she faded back off to sleep, comforted just to know that he was fine and coming back to bed.

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"Yeah…my name's Daryl Dixon," Daryl told the woman. "I'm supposed ta have an appointment with Martha Jean Hewitt."

The woman smiled and offered a hand to Daryl.

"I'm Mrs. Hewitt," the woman said. "I talked to Mr. Dewitt earlier about the fact that you're seeking adoption?"

"Yes ma'am," Daryl said. "He said that I could come on down here an' meet with you when he called back…said I could see you about the whole thing? Fill out some papers or whatever I gotta do…pay somethin' I guess?"

"All of that comes later, Mr. Dixon," Mrs. Hewitt responded. "We'll need to visit your home…meet with you and your wife. What age range were you looking at adopting? I can tell you that currently there are waiting lists for adopting infants."

Daryl cleared his throat and shook his head.

"No ma'am…I ain't lookin' ta get no infant," he said. "Well…not right now…but right now I'm lookin' for a specific kid. I'm looking for Sophia McAlister. She's fourteen years old an' it's gotta be her. You see…my wife's…her mother."

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"It shouldn't be a problem, after the home visit, for you take temporary custody of Sophia," Mrs. Hewitt declared as she walked through the hallway with Daryl. "There's no need for the child to remain here while we're taking care of all the legal work…"

Daryl was only half listening at this point. He'd already called Carol and told her that something had come up and he was going to be late because it had taken him hours to get this far…much longer than he'd expected.

He'd assumed, somehow, that they'd simply "return" the child…he hadn't really thought far enough ahead to imagine that there might be a good number of hoops to jump through…nor that he was going to have to subject Carol to a "home visit" tomorrow that she knew nothing about yet.

Still, he reminded himself that he was doing the best thing that he could do…and he had to have faith that somehow the rest would work itself out.

"I think I'd just like ta see her…for now," Daryl said.

"Certainly," Mrs. Hewitt said.

Daryl followed the woman through another door and into something of a play area. There were more children there than he had imagined he'd find there, all engaged in some sort of activity, and most of them turned to observe this male stranger coming with the woman who was…as Daryl thought of it…the manager of their house.

Daryl skimmed over the children, trying to imagine what Carol's daughter might look like…what she might sound like…what she might think of him.

And he knew her the moment his eyes found her.

Because Alice was right. She did look like Carol, and she was sitting off to the side, reading a book, her legs curled up under her. She hadn't so much as looked up when they'd come through the door.

He leaned close to Mrs. Hewitt.

"That's her," he said. "That's her over there…with the book."

"That's her," Mrs. Hewitt said with a nod of her head. "Sophia's a sweet girl. She can be a bit quiet and reserved. I must say that sometimes I think that's why she hasn't ever made the best impression on some of the people who've come here. They like the well behaved children, but the slightly more…outgoing…children get the most attention. And of course, boys are preferred."

Daryl cleared his throat and tried to swallow down the lump so that it might make its way down to his churning stomach.

Part of him wanted to simply snatch the girl up at this very moment and take her home with him. He wanted to assure her that this wasn't where she was supposed to be…it was never where she was supposed to be…but the other part of him knew that it was better that they had to wait until after the home visit.

He still had no idea what he was going to say to Carol…or how he was going to explain the fact that he'd gone, without waiting for her word on the matter, to start an adoption on a child for them…and it wasn't a baby after all.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Here we go…another little chapter to move us along. As I've said before…lots more to come! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Welcome home!" Carol announced the very moment that Daryl made his way through the door. "Dinner is ready…if you'll sit, I'll bring you a plate."

"I…uh…need ta talk with you," Daryl said, going about his routine to sit for the meal that he was late for.

"Something wrong?" Carol asked, her voice sounding instantly concerned.

"No…nothin' like that," Daryl said, trying to reassure her to start this conversation in the most positive light possible.

Carol brought plates and sat down, her forehead furrowed already.

"Was it something with work? Did something happen?" Carol asked.

Daryl furrowed his brow at her.

"Huh?" He asked.

"What came up?" She asked.

He shook his head, realizing that she'd been coming up with possible scenarios since he called her.

"No…weren't work," he said. "Listen…now I don't want you ta get upset 'til you hear me out. OK? Can you do that?"

Carol stared at him, but she nodded. Whether or not it was the truth, she would at least agree to try not to get upset until she'd heard him out.

"I went by the children's home," Daryl said. "I put in for us ta start an adoption…they comin' tomorrow…for a house visit or somethin'. I'ma take offa work, we gonna talk to 'em an' everything's gonna go just great. We gonna…bring us home a lil' girl ta live with us."

He'd spit it out as quickly as humanly possible. Carol was just staring at him, but already she'd started the soft shaking of her head from side to side. Daryl held up a hand at her to keep her from protesting.

"Now listen, Carol…I seen her…pretty little girl…perfect. Her name's Sophia…she's got red hair…little bit darker than yours…blue eyes…just perfect, she's gonna be just great for you…keep you company an' everything," Daryl said.

He was floundering. He didn't know what he was doing. He never knew what he was doing when it came to Carol. He felt so often like things with Carol were like jumping feet first into the water and hoping that once his head went under he learned how to swim in time to keep himself from drowning.

It wasn't, perhaps, the greatest way to handle things, but it had gotten him this far.

She continued to shake her head at him.

"Daryl…they're not going to let us have a baby! As soon as you tell them about…that place…they're not going to let me have a baby…" Carol said.

"Carol…we gonna explain ta them that you never belonged in that place," Daryl said. "You didn't belong there…you don't belong nowhere like that. None a' that stuff that happened to you was your fault. They're gonna see that…"

She continued shaking her head, her face drawn up in what could have been any number of facial expressions.

"You know it's true," she said, surprising him. "You know we're never going to have a baby of our own…and you…you just decided to go and get a baby? You knew it was true…"

Now it was his turn to shake his head at her. He hadn't seen that coming, but he knew that she counted on him to be something of a never ending cheerleader in their quest for a baby. Some people believed she'd never have children, some of the doctors said that she would, and she was caught in that dividing line where she wanted desperately to believe she would but she couldn't quite commit to the feeling. She counted on Daryl to remind her that it wasn't hopeless.

Without meaning to, he'd let her down there.

"Carol, that ain't what this is about," Daryl said. "We're gonna have kids one day of our own…but this might help you. Might help you relax. We can focus on raisin' this kid…our kid…Carol this ain't what that's about. This ain't nothin' bad…"

"Daryl, they're not going to let us keep her! Don't you understand that? We've talked about this before. If we tell them about Sunny Meadows? They'll never let us keep her…and if we don't tell them and they find out about it? They'll take her away," Carol said. "They'll come and they'll take her away! You shouldn't have done this!"

Daryl groaned to himself. This was going to go badly…it just was and he could sense it. And there was so much here that he hadn't even begun to figure out how to breach with her.

"Carol…I need you ta listen a minute an' stop shakin' your head at me…lower your voice…we ain't yellin' at each other neither," Daryl said. "You wanna talk, we'll talk all night, but we ain't gettin' nowhere we start yellin' at each other."

Carol looked quickly at her untouched plate of food and slid it closer to the middle of the table to go with his.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh and he worried that if she let go of her anger it was going to be replaced with tears.

"I think this is the best thing for us," Daryl said. "The person comin' tomorrow is a man I ain't met yet…his name is…something Weatherly. He's just gonna come an' he's gonna see that we good people. He's gonna see that we got us a nice lil' house here an' we got the potential ta take care a' Sophia. He's gonna talk with us an' he's gonna see that we should have all the damn kids we can feed…an' we gonna get Sophia an' I'ma bring her home for us. They ain't gonna take her away, OK? Ain't nobody gonna meet neither one of us an' think we ought not ta have kids."

Carol didn't respond. Her chest was rising and falling with a speed that let him know that she was upset that he'd made this decision without asking her…she didn't ever seem to realize how many decisions he'd been forced to make without her. And he tried not to point it out to her regularly.

If they got Sophia home with them, though, he couldn't help but feel that Carol would feel differently about things…and maybe just having Sophia there would trigger her memory. Maybe she would feel…whatever it was that mothers were supposed to feel. Maybe she'd just know that Sophia was hers…after all, Daryl had figured out easily enough that the girl belonged to Carol.

Or maybe if he could just get her through this night, let her sleep on things, and get the house visit out of the way…then he could approach Carol with a little more of her own story.

"You want a lil' girl, don't you?" Daryl asked, reaching and rubbing a finger against Carol's arm. "You want…you said you want to be a Mama…you want that don't you? Or you want me to call 'em tomorrow morning and tell 'em that you don't want that?"

"I want us to have a baby," Carol said. "I want us to be parents…"

"An' we're gonna be," Daryl said, forcing a smile around the lump in his throat that formed whenever he saw her look as crushed as she did at the moment.

She shook her head slightly, averting her eyes from him.

"If they say no? Then that's it…we're not going to be parents, Daryl," Carol said. "We're not going to have a baby…and they're not going to give us a baby...and it's my fault…if I'd never…"

"Carol Ann, they ain't gonna say no ta us, OK?" Daryl said. "They ain't gonna say no…an' we gonna get this lil' girl…an' there are gonna be others…hell we'll give Merle an' Andrea a damn run for their money if that's what the hell you want. But you gotta…stop actin' like this. Ain't nothin' your fault, but you act like this tomorrow an' they gonna get the wrong damn idea about things…they gonna think you actin' crazy…"

The moment he said it, the words hit Daryl like a kick in the gut, and he knew that they hit Carol just as hard. She looked at him with anger, and that was an emotion that she didn't use against him all too often.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I know you're scared…but you're fighting against somethin' you want. Don't fight against it. You want it an' you know you do…every day for damn near ten years I've heard you talkin' about wantin' us ta have a kid…every day for damn near ten years you've cried about it. Now it's gonna happen…don't mope an' cry over that!"

Carol nodded her head slightly, not speaking for a moment.

"I'm not hungry," she said.

And she got to her feet.

"Where are you goin'?" Daryl asked.

"To make the spare room look more acceptable," Carol said. "We don't have anything for a baby except a bassinet…and that's not even ours…it's a hand me down from Andrea…"

Daryl got to his feet and followed after her when she went into the room that had once been her room and started to straighten up. He leaned against the doorframe.

Part of him simply wanted to yell at her that she'd had a baby. He wanted to yell at her that she'd very likely lost her mind, if it was ever really lost to begin with, because she'd lost the kid…and now he was trying to give it back to her with every good intention that he'd ever had. He wanted to yell it all at her and make her remember it…but the other part thought that it might be too much. It might throw her right on over into something else…and then they might never, ever, convince anyone that they could do this…they could raise this girl.

There would be time…or at least he hoped there would be…to handle some of this.

"Carol…we don't need a bassinet," Daryl said. "the bed'll be just fine."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him.

"Daryl…you can't put a baby in a bed," Carol said. "She'll roll out. She could get hurt."

"I'm not stupid, Carol Ann," Daryl said. "Sophia ain't a baby…she's fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Carol asked. She looked at Daryl like he'd suddenly began to speak German. "Fourteen what?"

"Fourteen foot tall, Carol," Daryl said. "She's fourteen years old…she's a teenager…"

The staring contest began then. Daryl wasn't sure how long it lasted and while it was in progress he wasn't sure who would be the first to break the connection they'd established.

"What about…a baby?" Carol asked. "I thought…"

"I got my reasons, Carol," Daryl said. "I got my reasons for thinkin' this girl…fourteen year old girl…is the perfect kid for us, OK? An' they don't got no babies anyway…not right now."

Now Daryl was sure that going into things too deeply tonight would be a disaster. All of this, basic as it was to him, seemed to be hitting Carol hard. She wasn't speaking at this point, but she looked like she simply didn't know what to say or how to respond. She was just standing there now, looking around the room like she'd never seen it before instead of like it was the room that she'd spent a good deal of time living in.

He figured that if she could sleep on this tonight…get through this and get through the home visit…then he could speak to her a little more about the rest of it before they brought Sophia home…and he could speak to Sophia as well.

The girl needed to know a little about her mother, and about the man who would have been her father too.

He crossed the room, caught Carol's arm, and pulled her to the bed so that she would sit with him.

And she did, but she didn't look at him.

"Carol…this little girl…she's alone," Daryl said. "She's uh…been livin' in this home for her whole life. Come to them when she was just a baby…an' all those years…weren't nobody that wanted her."

Carol looked at him, her eyes showing clearly that she was on the verge of tears, even if she kept the rest of her expression calm at the moment.

"Why not?" Carol asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"Because…she just weren't what they were lookin' for I reckon," Daryl said. "Woman there said…she's quiet…keeps to herself a good bit…daydreams a lot."

He chuckled to himself feeling like the two of them were very much alike…odd since they'd never been together since the day the child had been born…as far as Daryl knew, Carol had never even seen her. Yet…here he was, feeling like he was somewhat describing Carol.

"Point is…she's got nobody ta love her," Daryl said. "But she wants ta be loved…I figured…you an' me…got somethin' in common with her. 'Cause we want a kid to love, right? That's what we've wanted for years…an' we don't got one to love…so maybe this way we all get somethin' outta this?"

Carol wiped at her eyes and Daryl knew that the tears that she'd been fighting against were crawling their way down her cheeks now.

"An'…who knows…maybe a couple months…a year…we get us a baby too? Maybe we have us two or three…but I figured that it wouldn't hurt us ta already have a lil' girl to love, ya know? This ain't about not having what we want…this is about havin' even more'n we knew we wanted," Daryl said.

Daryl had no idea how this was going to work out…but like everything before, he had to hope that he would somehow just figure it out…that somehow they'd come out on the other side of this. And eventually they'd all have what they needed…all of them.

"Can you do that? Do you think you could love this little girl? Be the Mama she ain't never had before?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked at him and nodded her head.

"I can try," she said.

Daryl smiled.

"You're gonna be great," he said. "I got me a hunch."


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy (though this might be one of those "you know what I mean" chapters). Let me know what you think! **

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After the man left, Carol made her way to her sewing room to work at a few of the projects that she had going on at the moment, barely looking up the one time she heard Daryl pass by the door.

He lingered there a moment.

"You could make some nice dresses for Sophia," he commented. "Something nice from you ta her."

"I can hardly make something nice without her measurements," Carol remarked, not looking up from the dress that she was working with.

"You can get all that when she's here," Daryl responded.

"If there's time," Carol said without commitment.

"Gonna be time," Daryl said.

He left her at that point and Carol tried to focus on what she was doing.

He was growing annoyed with her and it was evident in his voice. He rarely grew too annoyed with her, but when he did, the stress in his voice would change and often times he'd come up with some errand he needed to run or something he needed to do to get out of her presence for the amount of time he deemed necessary.

And she tended to fret and worry when he did that. She would try, in his absence, to check whatever it was about herself that had bothered him and she would try to do something to make it up to him like preparing him something she knew that he liked to eat.

But at this moment she didn't care if he was annoyed with her and she didn't care if he wanted to leave her presence…because she wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea of being in his presence.

She knew that he wanted this child to come and live with them…and he deserved to have what he wanted.

That didn't mean, though, that she wasn't bothered by the whole idea, and no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't get quite over her feelings on the whole thing.

She wanted a baby and she wanted a family, but a fourteen year old girl was hardly a baby. A fourteen year old girl would hardly accept her as a mother or him as a father. They wouldn't be anything to her beyond, at best, kind people who were willing to give her a home for the few short years that she would be with them before she married herself and had her own family.

She would likely have a family long before Carol would…if Carol ever got her family at all.

And for the life of her, Carol couldn't figure out why it was that Daryl wanted to bring a fourteen year old girl into their home. Why this almost woman? He could disguise it under the fact that they wanted children and adoption was a way for them to have children since Carol was obviously cursed to never give them any children…but that still didn't explain why he wanted to bring a fourteen year old girl there. Why not a boy? If he were going to be satisfied with this arrangement…an older child that would never care for them…assuming they even got to keep the child…why a girl and not a boy?

The more that Carol stewed on the thought of it, the more annoyed and perplexed she grew about the whole thing.

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Everything had gone well with the home visit. Carol had answered any and all of the questions directed at her by the man who had come to pay the visit…a man who either knew nothing of the fact that Carol was the child's birth mother or had chosen not to allude to it any way if he had known.

The questions that he'd asked were fairly simple, he'd pressed only slightly into what happened with Carol's hospitalization and he'd readily accepted Daryl's explanation of the events that took place in that time. He'd done a quick inspection of the house and it hadn't taken too long at all before he'd left the house and declared that Daryl would be getting a call later that evening, more than likely, about when he could come and collect Sophia.

But since he'd left, Carol had been quiet and moody. She'd reminded him of how she was in some of the earlier days that they'd been together…almost dismissive of him.

And Daryl was growing annoyed of it simply because he wanted her to understand that what he was doing wasn't easy for him either, and he was doing it because he thought it would be the best thing for her…the best thing for Sophia. He certainly wasn't doing it because he thought it was going to be the easiest thing for him.

Daryl passed by the sewing room for the third or fourth time, hearing the hum of the machine from time to time while Carol threw herself into some sewing project.

"Carol…supper?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked up at him and then she began to put away whatever she was doing, her actions jerky and tense.

"I'll get it," she mumbled.

"Why are you actin' like this?" Daryl asked. "You heard the man…we gettin' Sophia. He knows about Sunny Meadows an' he don't care. We're still gettin' the little girl."

Carol nodded her head slightly and got up from her chair.

"I woulda thought you'd be happy 'bout gettin' a kid…woulda thought you'd be lookin' forward ta bein' a Mama…not actin' like I just…took somethin' away from you," Daryl said.

He could feel his frustration getting greater and greater. She was almost mad about this and it was written all over her.

"You gonna talk ta me? You gotta tell me what's wrong with you…you don't want Sophia seein' you like this, do you? This is her Ma…gonna walk around actin' like this?" Daryl pressed.

"I'm not her mother!" Carol yelled suddenly. "I'm not her mother and you're not her father! She is fourteen years old, Daryl! She's not going to care about me and she's not going to care about you! She's not going to be our child! She's going to live here…until…she marries someone and we're just going to be some nice people she knew for a little while…she's not going to see us as her parents!"

Daryl was stunned enough that he could have been knocked over with a feather at the moment. Carol had never yelled out in anger…or frustration…or whatever emotion it was that she was tangled up in at the moment, the way that she was doing now.

And then he felt his shock turn into anger at the fact that she almost seemed to think that he was being stupid about all this…like he hadn't thought about all the complications that might come from this whole thing when she didn't even know the half of it.

"Don't you yell at me, Carol Ann!" He yelled back. "You start yellin' with me an' you ain't gonna win that!"

Carol stepped back a step from where she was standing, her chest heaving.

"Why, Daryl?" Carol asked. "Why did you do this? Why did you go and decide that we were going to adopt a fourteen year old girl? Why did you decide that? You didn't even…talk to me…"

Daryl clenched his teeth.

"You wanted a kid, didn't you? That's all the hell I ever hear from you, Carol! You wanted ta get married…an' you wanted ta have a kid…well this is the only damn way I can get you a kid 'cause for whatever damn reason you ain't havin' one on ya own…so I got you a damn kid an' now you actin' ungrateful about it!" Daryl responded.

"I wanted a baby, Daryl," Carol responded. "I wanted us to have a family…I wanted us to have a baby…I wanted us to be parents and have children that we could love…children that could love us. I wanted a baby and…why? Why did you choose a fourteen year old girl? Why not a boy? You said company for me, Daryl…but why? Is it company for you? Is that why you wanted a fourteen year old girl? A pretty little girl? She's practically a woman!"

As soon as the weight of the accusation hit Daryl, he almost felt overcome with anger. He got the urge to simply walk out…and in hindsight, he'd wish that he'd gone with that instinct instead of ever responding to Carol.

"I ain't bringin' this girl in here for me!" Daryl responded. "If I wanted ta do somethin'? If I wanted ta find me some woman that was younger'n you? I could do that just fine without it bein' some kid! I'm bringin' this girl in for you because it's your kid, Carol!"

Carol looked at him, confused, and shook her head at him.

"What are you talking about?" Carol asked, her voice changing slightly…but it did nothing for Daryl's frustrations.

"Just because you don't remember it…just because you don't wanna remember it, that don't mean it ain't so," Daryl said. "That man ain't put you in some place just 'cause you up an' went crazy…he ain't left you for no reason at all…that man left you in another place 'cause you had this kid...had her just fine…Sophia…an' he didn't want her. He didn't want you neither…an' that's why you went crazy. That's why you ended up in Sunny Meadows where I found you! You ended up there 'cause you lost this kid…an' I'm sorry she's fourteen years old, but I ain't had nothin' ta do with that. You was the one that had her fourteen years ago…not me!"

Daryl felt his breathing seize right along with his heart the moment that his own words hit his ears. He felt like he'd hit a brick wall running with the impact of them…with the impact of his own anger.

And he could see on Carol's face that she was even more stunned than he was. She stood there, frozen for a moment, staring at him, her mouth open.

The anger and the frustration that he'd felt only moments before strong enough that he might have been able to strangle her for not appreciating all that he'd done for her drained out of him all at once and completely.

And he could have never apologized for what he'd said or how he'd said it enough for him to feel that he'd done it well enough…but Carol didn't even give him the chance to try. She stormed toward the door of the sewing room and slammed it shut, closing off the connection between them.

Daryl reached it in time to hear it lock and to hear the sound of, from what he could imagine, Carol slamming back against the door and sliding down it…the sounds coming from her sounds that he didn't want to ever hear.

And he certainly didn't want to know that he'd been the one to cause them.

Daryl walked to the door and banged on it halfheartedly, feeling like he wanted to sob just as loudly as she was at the moment.

"Carol Ann…open the door…Carol Ann…please…open the door…let me in," Daryl said.

But she didn't respond to him. And he wasn't entirely sure when she would respond to him or what to do about it.

Because for all his good intentions…for all of his efforts…for all of his years spent biting his tongue and wrestling back his anger and frustration…his temper had won out and gotten the best of him. And in a matter of minutes he feared that he'd been able to destroy very nearly everything that he'd worked so hard to build for so many years.

"Carol…please…open the door…we gotta talk…I'm sorry…" Daryl said, this time with less conviction than before, already knowing that she wouldn't open the door, not until she was ready to open it.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Here you go. Another little chapter to move us along.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl had already decided that the next time he decided to lose his temper on Carol, it might be better to simply put a few good sized rocks into a pillow case and beat her with them.

When she finally stopped crying, he tried to plead with her through the door to open it and speak to him again...whatever it was that she might have to say to him, he didn't care, just so long as she was talking to him.

Carol finally opened the door and Daryl scrambled away from where he'd settled down on the other side of the door to wait her out.

"Are you OK?" Daryl asked, getting to his feet.

Her face showed clearly the signs that she'd been crying and he watched as she pulled the skirt of the dress that she was wearing up and used it to wipe her face and her nose.

She nodded slightly and walked toward him, not looking directly at him, she began an odd sort of elaborate dance to figure out how to escape the room and Daryl moved to block her in, not sure that he wanted to allow her said escape.

"You gotta talk to me," Daryl said. "You gotta tell me you alright."

Carol shook her head.

"I'm just fine," Carol said shortly. "But I don't want to talk to you..."

"You can't just look at me?" Daryl asked, still blocking her way. She looked at him, but he didn't like what he saw behind the look. She was angry with him and she made it clear in her expression that if she was looking at him in the moment, it was out of obedience and not out of any desire to look at him. "I'm so sorry, Carol Ann…"

She shook her head at him and tried to push by him again, this time putting her hands on his arm and trying to push him out of the way.

Daryl finally moved to let her pass by, but he stayed on her hells so that she couldn't escape him entirely. She went to the bedroom and moved to shut the door, but he put his arm up quickly and caught the door.

"You ain't shuttin' me out," he said. "You can't shut me out. We gotta talk about this."

Carol turned around.

"What do you want me to say, Daryl?" Carol asked. "I had a baby? I don't remember it…but I had a baby? And…he took it from me…and then…"

She shook her head.

"What do you want me to say, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"You don't remember none of it? Nothin'?" Daryl asked.

"If I remembered it," Carol said, "do you think that I would have spent all this time thinking that I couldn't get pregnant…that there was something wrong with me? That I was less of a woman than Andrea?"

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes at him.

"And how long have you known about this? How long have you known that I had a baby and you never told me?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed.

"I found out about the baby…just after you come ta live with me," he said. "But…we all thought it was dead. Figured that there weren't no need ta remind you a' the whole thing if they weren't no baby anyway…"

Carol seemed to be examining the floor with some great interest and then she nodded her head.

"So…you reminded me…about my fiancé…and we talked about him and how he was…you reminded me about him because it was different with us…but you couldn't remind me about…the fact that I had a baby?" Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head at her this time.

"Carol…you remembered your fiancé," Daryl said. "You remembered things about him…an' you had nightmares about him…you didn't trust me because you went through a stage a' not really…knowin' or understandin'…an' sometimes you'd confuse what he done with what I was doin'…we talked about him because you needed ta know the difference…"

Carol walked over to the bed and sat down, resting her head in her hands, her eyes slightly visible, but the rest of her face covered.

"I've had…nightmares…dreams…daydreams…about babies for as long as I can remember," she said quietly. "I've felt like…I could almost imagine myself having a baby…our baby…"

She got to her feet and started pacing, the small bedroom that they shared not leaving a great deal of room for such an action. She turned sharply toward Daryl, the anger that she'd shown earlier now burning hot behind her eyes.

"You knew it!" She yelled. "You knew that these weren't just…Oh my…they weren't just dreams! Daryl! I wasn't just dreaming of a baby! I had a baby! I had a baby and he took it from me…and you let me believe…all this time…that I was just dreaming of a baby that we weren't ever going to have!"

Daryl shook his head at her. He didn't know how to defend himself against her like this. He didn't even know if there was a defense available for this.

"Carol…it never seemed like a good idea. It never seemed like a good time…an' if the baby was dead then it didn't matter no way. It was just…upsettin' you for no damn reason at all," Daryl said. "I did what the hell I had ta do. I was tryin' ta keep you from losin' your mind!"

"I have been to…how many doctors, Daryl? I have been…examined…and prodded…and…all because I believed that my body…lacked something. Something was missing. I couldn't have a baby…it just wasn't possible…and you never…not once…thought that it might be a good idea to tell me that I'd done it before?!" Carol said. "You never thought that…maybe…what if I've been remembering this…girl…all this time and I never even knew it?!"

"I didn't think it was a good idea…I don't know what the hell I'm doin' here, Carol," Daryl said. "I been tryin' ta do the right damn thing this whole time, an' it looks like I done wrong…an' I'm sorry for that…but I did what I thought was right. You didn't come with no kinda instruction manual an' everybody else told me that you were just crazy…you just weren't even in there…it'd been best ta just leave you at Sunny Meadows…let you stay there an' make macaroni collages for the rest a' your life of the life you weren't never gonna have."

Carol stood there a moment, not responding, and Daryl held his own position. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know what to say. He could think that if he were able to go back in time he'd do things differently, but he wasn't even sure that was the truth. He still didn't know if he was doing the right thing.

"I didn't know what the hell ta do," he mumbled again.

"And now?" Carol asked. "Now…this girl…Sophia…my daughter…she's fourteen years old? And she's coming to live with us?"

Daryl nodded his head at her.

"I didn't know she was alive," Daryl repeated from earlier. "Alice found her…an' I thought that you wouldn't want her livin' her life just believin' she ain't got nobody when she does…I thought you wouldn't want her ta be alone…"

"Alice knew too?" Carol asked. She shook her head. "Of course she did…she knew I had a baby…and Mel?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"Who didn't know, Daryl?" Carol asked. "Who…is going to be just as…surprised as I am?"

Daryl didn't respond and Carol pulled up the end of her skirt and mopped at her face again. He heard her suck back a breath.

"I see…I'm the only one that you didn't think needed to know about my baby," Carol said. "I'm the only one who didn't…need to know…"

"We all thought this was the best thing," Daryl said. "We thought that…it was the best thing for you. Didn't nobody know for sure that she was alive, Carol."

Carol nodded her head.

"We were all tryin' ta protect you," Daryl said. "Nobody wanted to see you hurt. You've…come so damn far from where you was…"

"And Sophia?" Carol asked. "Have you talked to her? Does she know?"

Daryl shook his head.

Carol was surprisingly calm. She was much calmer than he'd expected her to be. She was mad at him, but she wasn't reacting the way that he'd thought she would react. She hadn't thrown anything…she hadn't gone insane at all…she hadn't reverted back to the stark raving mad woman that they reported admitting to Sunny Meadows at all.

"I ain't talked to her," Daryl said. "I seen her…she looks a lot like you…but I never talked to her. Carol…I'm sorry…an' if I'da known she was there…I'da tried ta bring her home when she was…four or five…but I thought she was dead."

Carol shook her head.

"How do I face her?" Carol asked, but she wasn't looking at Daryl. "How do I tell her…that I gave birth to her…and I don't remember it…or at least I'm not sure if I remember it…and I left her?"

"You didn't have a choice," Daryl said. "You signed the papers…but you weren't much in a position to say you didn't wanta give her up. She'll understand."

Carol turned back to him then and shook her head.

"She'll understand? How can she possibly understand this?" Carol asked.

"You're her Mama," Daryl said. "She's gonna understand."

Carol shook her head.

"I'm not her Mama," Carol said. "I gave birth to her…but I'm not her Mama. I don't know her…and she doesn't know me."

Carol sighed.

"She didn't know I was alive…and I…didn't know she was alive. We're strangers…" Carol said. "Strangers who just happened to…to share a body once…that's all we are."

"We'll all start out as strangers," Daryl said. "But…it ain't gonna take long an' you gonna be her Mama. An' she's gonna love you, Carol. She's gonna understand what the hell happened…an' you gonna…love her. You already did love her…you wrote her a letter an' everything…"

Carol looked at him, red eyed and her eyes widened.

"There's a letter?" She asked.

Daryl nodded his head and left the room, sure now that Carol wasn't bolting anywhere. He went into the sewing room, unlocked the footlocker, and found the letter. He brought it to Carol and offered it gingerly. She took it and opened it and Daryl left the room voluntarily, giving her a chance to read it while he stepped outside to smoke on the porch.

He didn't know how this was going to work out, but he couldn't help but feel that Carol reacting as calmly as she was reacting at the moment might be proof that somehow it was going to work out for the best…it was just going to take time.

And if he'd learned anything from all of this, it was patience.

Carol stepped out the door, empty handed, a few moments later and sat down on the step of the porch, across the space from where Daryl was sitting.

"You hate me now?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head, but she didn't speak for a few moments.

"I can't hate you," Carol said softly when she did speak. "I could never hate you…and it isn't you that I…hate in this anyway…"

"It's gonna work out, Carol," Daryl said. "You gonna see her tomorrow…an' she's gonna love you. You're gonna make up for the lost time…"

Carol laughed to herself and leaned her head against the banister beside her.

"How do you make up for fourteen years, Daryl?" Carol asked. "How do you make up for that? You can't…you can't make up for that…"

"You can make up for it," Daryl said. "An' you will…you'll know what ta do."

"What else, "Carol asked after a moment, "what else haven't you told me?"

Daryl felt his stomach drop.

"Nothin', Carol," Daryl said. "That's the only thing I ain't told you about…I promise they ain't nothin' else…"

Carol hummed something and shifted her weight closer to the banister, but she didn't respond, and at the moment, Daryl thought it might be better not to press.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter to keep us moving along. There's a lot that's going to be happening here, but we finally get to meet Sophia.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl had called into work first thing in the morning and then he'd gotten the suitcase out of the hall closet that he was supposed to take for Sophia to pack her things. Carol made Daryl breakfast and brought him his coffee in silence.

She wasn't acting insane at all, but it was clear that she had little desire to speak to him at the moment, and she'd had little desire to speak to him the night before as well. She'd stayed up late working her sewing room and she'd moved away from him the first time that he'd tried to hold her when she finally came to bed. Eventually she'd settled into him, but he hadn't felt nearly as welcome as he usually did when she snuggled into him for sleep.

She'd made it clear that she expected for them to tell Sophia immediately about her situation…she wanted Sophia to know how she'd ended up in the home and she wanted Sophia to know "what she'd done," as she put it.

So while Daryl was waiting on the girl in the quiet room that he'd been left in, bouncing his foot absentmindedly on the floor with his nerves, he'd tried to figure out how in the world he might go about softening the blow since he'd learned he wasn't great with giving people news that might be difficult to swallow.

When Sophia was brought into the room, pulling the suitcase with her, Daryl could barely breathe. Up close the girl looked enough like Carol that it was shocking and Daryl was having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that in a matter of minutes he would be taking this girl…this almost woman as Carol had called her…home with him to be his daughter. She was already Carol's daughter, even if neither of them had been properly introduced.

Daryl reached and took the suitcase from the girl with barely more than the words required to get her to let go of the handle and he marveled at how light the piece of luggage was. He finished up everything that he had to sign and fill out and finally he was taking her home…

And he still wasn't entirely sure how to breach the topic with the girl so he walked in silence toward his car, Sophia following behind him.

"This all you got?" Daryl asked, putting the light suitcase in the car while Sophia stood to the side, silent and watching him, her hands tangled together in front of him. "You ain't got nothin' more'n this? Don't feel like there's nothin' here…"

Sophia nodded.

"Yes sir," Sophia said softly. "That's all I have."

"Fine," Daryl responded. "Come on…Sophia…"

Daryl walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. Sophia climbed up and he closed the door, going around the car and growing increasingly nervous as he went. When he got in the car, he rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.

"You hungry?" Daryl asked.

Sophia looked at him…stared at him…but she didn't respond.

Daryl chewed at his cuticle before taking another drag off his cigarette.

"Lemme try this again," Daryl said. "I'ma go get somethin' ta eat…I'm hungry…if I get you somethin' ta eat, you gonna eat it?"

Sophia nodded her head.

"Yes sir," she responded.

Daryl nodded his head slightly. He was having something like déjà vu at the moment. He was also wondering how in the world he was going to tell this girl anything that he needed to say to her when he couldn't feel like he was talking to anyone with the capacity to understand him and respond to him.

He pulled the car out of the home and knew exactly where he was taking her to eat.

"Long as we out this way, they's a woman, Marge Simms, lives not too far from here. She serves plate lunches outta her house about this time every day," Daryl said. "Let's go get somethin'…"

No response from Sophia, but Daryl wasn't really expecting anything at this point. He drove to the place and got Sophia out of the car, guiding her to one of the picnic tables not occupied by the handful of men on their lunch break taking advantage of a cheap, home cooked meal, and then he went to get the plates. Marge Simms, seeing he was going to have a hard time carrying everything, followed him out to the table with the glasses of sweet tea and put them down, smiling at Sophia and telling her what a pretty young lady she was, before she took her leave of them and went about clearing one of the recently abandoned tables.

"You can eat," Daryl said finally to Sophia, wondering if the girl was actually going to eat or was simply going to stare at the table while they sat there.

He was maybe starting to understand why it was that she hadn't caught the attention of too many people who might have come there to pick out kids like produce.

"You like the food?" Daryl asked after Sophia had taken a few bites from her plate.

"Yes sir," she responded.

Daryl clenched his teeth not to growl.

"You takin' any kind a' medication?" He asked. "They give you any pills or anything?"

Sophia looked a little perplexed, but she shook her head.

"I'm well," she said. "I take something for a cough at night…but I don't really need it. It's only that my coughing was bothering my friends at night."

"Hey!" Daryl declared, smiling. "You can say somethin' besides yessir and no sir!"

Sophia stared at him.

Daryl decided to save himself and change the subject. At the moment he didn't know if there was something wrong with Sophia…if they'd done something to her in this home…or if she was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

One thing he did know was that there was no mistaking that she was Carol's child. And that reminded him of why he was here and what kind of job he had ahead of him.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"Sophia…what'cha thought a' that place you was in?" Daryl asked.

"My home?" Sophia asked.

Daryl nodded.

"It was my home," Sophia offered.

"You ever lived anywhere else?" Daryl asked.

Sophia shook her head.

"Can you talk ta me, please?" Daryl asked. "I prefer conversation that's two sided."

"I don't remember living anywhere else if I have," Sophia offered. "I changed rooms a few times."

"What you know about your parents?" Daryl asked.

Sophia wrinkled her forehead at him.

"I don't have any parents," she responded. "I'm an orphan…"

Daryl stared back at her now. It was official. She was looking at him like she wasn't sure that he was qualified to live, less likely to be any kind of guardian.

"I know what an orphan is," Daryl said. "But…Sophia…everybody's got parents. Everybody comes from somewhere. Whether they alive or dead…you got parents. You didn't just spring up outta the ground like a weed."

Sophia nodded.

"Yes sir…I had parents, but I never knew them," she responded, looking a little more relaxed with explanation.

"They ever tell you anything about 'em? They ever tell you who they were or what happened to 'em?" Daryl asked.

Sophia looked around like a squirrel or a blue bird might offer her some information, but none offered anything at all, so she looked back at Daryl and shook her head.

"I've never asked," she responded. "Most of us at the home never had parents. I think that mine died."

"You got reason ta think that or you made it up?" Daryl asked.

It was becoming clear that Sophia knew nothing of her situation. Part of it could very well be that they didn't speak of the children's parents at the home, but he was suspecting that another part of it was simply that she wasn't interested. She didn't have parents, and that's all there was to it.

Sophia shook her head at him.

"What would you say if I was to tell ya that'cha got parents? Or at least that you got a Ma?" Daryl asked.

Sophia wrinkled her forehead again.

"I know that you're taking me home," Sophia said. "And…I promise that I'll do my best to be what you'd like me to be…they told me that you might want me to call you my parents. I'll call you whatever you like."

Daryl shoveled in some of his food and regarded the girl. She seemed to take that as an invitation…or maybe an order…to eat some of her own food because she ate too.

"We'll get around ta what'cha wanna call me," Daryl said after a moment. "But…ya Ma…my wife, Carol Ann…what I'm tryin' ta say is that she's ya Ma, Sophia."

Sophia nodded her head.

"Yes sir," she said. "I understand. I'll call her that…Ma?"

Daryl shook his head with a sigh and moved his almost finished plate to the side so that he could lean on his elbows, closer to the girl.

"Sophia…when Carol Ann was real young…not too much older'n you is, she was gonna marry another man an' turns out she was gonna have a baby. He said she couldn't keep it, so she had ta give it up…give it away. Sophia…you that kid. My wife…is really ya Ma. An' we just found ya…an' now I'm takin' ya home ta live with us," Daryl said.

Sophia looked at him now like he was telling her a story that she had to memorize…like she was listening to him construct a history for her that she was going to be responsible for repeating later. She didn't look like she really believed him.

"Sophia," he said, "what you think about that? That my wife's ya Ma…your real Ma."

Sophia stared for a moment before she made any sort of response.

"Are you being serious…sir?" Sophia asked, shaking her head slightly.

"Yeah, Sophia," Daryl said. "I wish I didn't have ta tell you this…an' I wish it didn't sound like it does…but I'm bein' serious."

She looked doubtful.

"Sophia…ya Ma had some trouble…'cause she never wanted ta give you up…she wanted ta keep you. An' they said that you was…gone…that she couldn't keep you…an' she spent a couple years tryin' ta understand that…in a special kinda home. It was a place a lot like where you was…but while she was there, she lost a lotta her memory…" Daryl said.

He felt terrible. The girl's face was telling him that he was doing this all wrong. It was telling him that it was too much. It was too much for a fourteen year old girl to take in on a moment's notice and it was too much, probably, to even believe.

But he didn't know what else to do and Carol was already pissed at him. She was going to be even more pissed if he brought Sophia home and suggested they wait a while to tell the girl what had happened…just like he'd waited maybe a bit too long to tell Carol what had happened to her.

"Sophia," he continued, seeing that she was taking silence as her best option, "your Ma didn't remember too good that you was borned because of…everything that happened in this place, see? But I told her…and I done it all wrong…so she's a little mad at me right now, but she ain't mad at you. She's…sorry…that she don't know you yet…but she's real happy you comin' to live with us."

Big eyes peered at him under furrowed brows.

"Sophia, do you understand any a' this?" Daryl asked.

Finally she nodded slightly, though not with any strong commitment.

"I think so," she said, turning her attention back to her food.

Daryl didn't want to eat any more of his...suddenly he wasn't nearly as hungry as he'd thought he was.

"You got questions for me?" Daryl asked.

Sophia looked at him and shook her head with the same amount of commitment as she'd nodded it earlier.

Daryl nodded back at her in response and sighed.

"You got plenty a' time," he said. "You can ask whatever you wanna ask…when you ready. I just…wanted you ta know…'cause I don't know how Carol's gonna react or how she's gonna try ta make it up ta you…an' I didn't want'cha ta be confused."

Sophia nodded.

"I think I understand," she said quietly.

Daryl didn't think she understood at all…but maybe she did. Time would tell. He couldn't help but think, though, that things were going to be at least a little tense around his home for a bit…especially since they were tense before he'd ever even left to come and pick up the girl.

Daryl sighed again and drank down half his glass of tea. He lit a cigarette and turned to sit in a more relaxed position on the bench of the picnic table.

"Eat'cha food," Daryl said. "Then we'll head on home."


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol felt like all her internal organs were tying and untying themselves into knots while she waited for Daryl to get back with the girl…Sophia…her daughter.

Carol wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about everything. Daryl was acting like he was offended that she didn't want to talk with him about things…that she didn't want to discuss everything…and she felt like she couldn't discuss things with him because she wasn't even sure how she felt about things and she wouldn't have known where to begin if she'd even tried.

She loved Daryl. She loved him completely. And she'd always been thankful that he was such a good husband…that he loved her so much. It was something she'd seen and experienced every day and she knew that she was lucky. She knew that there were other women that weren't so lucky. She knew that other women didn't have husbands that treated them like they were absolutely gifts that had been given to them.

But now she almost felt like there was a part of Daryl that she didn't know at all. The part of Daryl that had kept the secret of her daughter from her was a part of him that she'd never met before.

It was a part of her that almost felt as distant and as foreign to her as the daughter that she was about to meet…

And Carol had spent much of her time since she'd learned the information coming to terms with the fact that the things she had thought were elaborate dreams or even hallucinations of being pregnant…of waiting for her child…that all of these things that she had feared were signs that she really was crazy and that her deep desire to have a baby was driving her to create images in her mind that seemed so real she could almost forget entirely that they weren't real, were probably not hallucinations at all.

They were probably her own memories…and Daryl had listened to her, on more than occasion, tell him about these visions and never had he mentioned that maybe, just maybe, they were so vivid because they were hers…they were her experiences.

She was trying to accept what kind of person she must have been, since she couldn't recall that entirely either, that she had become so crazy that she'd been put away, and so crazy that Daryl had thought it was better to never mention her child to her to avoid it.

And she simply hadn't come to terms with all of that. She wasn't even sure she'd believe it entirely now if she hadn't read the letter that she'd written to the baby, unmistakably written in her own handwriting and had, following that, a night full of even more detailed dreams than usual.

Still, though, she wasn't ready to discuss everything with Daryl. She wasn't ready to smile and nod and tell him that everything was wonderful and that she didn't hold any feelings he might like in regard to all that was happening in their lives.

While she waited for him to get there with Sophia, she fixed up the room for the girl that they'd always intended to make into a nursery. She tried to make it comfortable at least. She had no idea what a fourteen year old girl might like…she had no idea what Sophia might like.

She wondered, even as she arranged and rearranged things, what the girl might look like…what she might sound like…what she might think about everything…

If she could ever forgive Carol for what she'd done…because Carol wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for simply knowing nothing of her daughter for the first fourteen years of her life. And she was quite certain that she couldn't hold it against the girl if she absolutely hated her for it.

Maybe, she thought, that was why she didn't have children with Daryl. She certainly didn't deserve them and she certainly had proved she wasn't much of a mother. After all, she was still waiting to meet her daughter for the first time, or at least the first time that she could remember, and her daughter was very nearly fully grown…and she'd spent her entire life without her mother.

Carol was sitting down on the edge of the small bed and trying not to cry again, convinced that she didn't want her daughter's first image of her to be one where she was crying for herself when she was really the least wronged in this situation, when she heard the sound of the car pulling into the driveway…and a couple of moments later the sound of footsteps on the porch.

Carol's heart leapt up into her throat and she got up from the bed, her knees practically knocking against each other with nerves, and straightened her clothes before she started into the living room to greet them.

She sucked down a few breaths like she was trying to drink water and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.

When the door opened, Carol could barely breathe and she could only hope that it was evident on her face. Daryl came through the door first, carrying the suitcase that he'd left with this morning, and he moved out of the way, calling in the girl.

When Sophia stepped through the door, Carol was overwhelmed.

She was overwhelmed with all the feelings that she'd been fighting and she was overwhelmed with the fact that the little girl, her head slightly ducked at the moment like she had a particular interest in her shoes, already resembled the reflection she saw in the mirror and she still couldn't clearly see the whole of her face.

"So this is ya house," Daryl said. "An'…uh…Sophia, this is Carol Ann…this is my wife…ya Ma."

Sophia looked at Daryl for a moment and then she turned her head toward Carol, their eyes meeting for the first time.

Carol chewed her lip to keep the sob that was threatening to come up inside her from escaping. She swallowed and forced the best smile she could.

This little girl…this nearly grown girl…was her daughter. And she felt terrified of her in so many ways.

"Hi…Sophia…" Carol said, almost wanting to cry because the words barely came out and even then they weren't right. Nothing would be right to say at the moment.

"Hello," Sophia offered quietly. She cut her eyes back to Daryl and then returned them to Carol.

Carol swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump in her throat.

"Would you like to see your room?" Carol asked.

Sophia nodded and Carol moved, reaching and taking the suitcase out of Daryl's hands. He started to protest, but she pulled it loose from his grasp and started toward the bedroom that she'd recently left with it.

Her mind was racing…what had Daryl told the girl? How had she reacted? What was she even thinking now?

Carol put the suitcase in the middle of the room.

"This is your room," she said to the girl who had followed her inside.

Sophia walked over to her bed and touched the quilt there before she looked at Carol.

"Thank you…it's nice," Sophia said.

"I made the quilt," Carol offered. "Years ago…and the bear? I don't know if you're too old for such things…but I thought it might keep you company. Daryl gave it to me years ago…and I thought that you might like it."

Sophia picked up the teddy bear from the bed and held it in front of her for a moment before she returned it to the spot that it had been on before.

"Thank you," she repeated.

Carol shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand…trying to remember everything she should say and not being able to remember anything in the moment. She wanted, desperately, to touch the girl…to hug her…something…but she didn't feel that she could do that and she didn't feel like she wanted to put something like that on the girl as an expectation if she wasn't ready for it.

"This is…your house," Carol said. "So…anything that you want…anything at all…just let me know or let…Daryl know...and one of us will get it for you if we don't have it. Anything…Sophia."

Sophia looked at Carol for a moment and then she nodded her head.

"Thank you," she repeated. "I don't need anything…except…"

Sophia paused and Carol took a step closer to her.

"What is it?" Carol asked.

Sophia furrowed her brow and looked like she was carefully considering her question. She looked like she wasn't certain it was going to be a question that she was allowed to ask.

"What am I to call you?" Sophia asked. "Both of you…what would you prefer that I call you?"

Carol felt her heart thundering in her chest at the posing of the question.

"What would you like to call us?" Carol asked.

Sophia sat down on the edge of her bed and contemplated it for a moment.

Carol walked a little closer to her and finally summoned up the courage to approach the bed.

"May I sit?" Carol asked.

"Of course," Sophia said, looking at her again.

Carol sat and sucked in a breath.

"Did Daryl tell you…anything about us? About me?" Carol asked.

She was suddenly wondering if she was right to believe that Daryl would have mentioned anything to the girl at all.

Sophia nodded her head, though.

"He said that…you're my Ma…" Sophia said.

The girl laughed quietly to herself and it surprised Carol at the moment.

"I suppose that means you're my mother," Sophia said.

The smile faded and she furrowed her brow again.

"My real mother?" Sophia finished.

Carol nodded her head gently.

"Yeah…" Carol said. "Yeah…I am…and…I'll answer any questions for you that you might have…or I'll try…I might not know all the answers, but I'll try."

Sophia nodded at Carol in response and offered her a "thank you".

"Do I call you my mother…or my mama? Or Ma?" Sophia asked.

Carol considered it.

"Whatever you want to call me, you can call me," Carol said. "I'm not going to tell you what to call me."

"And your husband?" Sophia asked.

"You can call him what you want as well," Carol said. "We're not going to force anything on you, Sophia. You can call us whatever makes you comfortable…and you don't have to decide right away."

Sophia nodded her head again.

"Do you need anything?" Carol asked.

Sophia shook her head.

"I'm fine," Sophia responded.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Carol asked.

"I'm fine, ma'am," Sophia said. "I'd just like to…unpack maybe?"

Carol understood almost immediately what the girl was asking. It was a lot for her, and likely she just wanted a chance to take it all in. Carol couldn't even imagine what all she might be thinking and dealing with.

"I've cleared out the dresser for you," Carol said. "The closet is ready for you too. When you're ready, I could make you some nice dresses. We could look at patterns and cloth together. You could pick out what you like."

Sophia smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "I would like that, very much."

Carol stood up, still uncomfortable with going with her natural inclination to touch the girl, and walked toward the door of the bedroom.

"We have a rule here," Carol said. "We don't lock the doors. You're welcome to close your door for your privacy…but we don't lock them."

"I understand," Sophia said, standing up beside the bed.

"The bathroom is just off the living room, and the door next to it is to my sewing room," Carol offered. "There's a bookshelf in there. You're welcome to read anything there if you'd like that…and I could make something special for dinner for you if you'd like."

Sophia smiled again.

"Thank you," she said again. "Anything is fine. Anything you make will be nice."

"Fine…you take your time, unpack, get comfortable. If you need anything, will you please let me know?" Carol said.

"Yes ma'am…thank you again," Sophia said.

And Carol stepped out of the room, not sure exactly what she was feeling at the moment beyond the fact that she was concerned, more than anything, about how the girl might be feeling. She hoped that somehow she'd know how to do this and that somehow she'd know how to make this all easier and better for Sophia.

She didn't know what she was doing now…but she could hope that somehow she would just know.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: So I have another little chapter for you here and a couple of notes that I'd like to throw out there. The Sophia in this story is a Sophia all her own. Some of you have read Broken Mirrors, and I don't want you to think that this is going to be exactly the same Sophia, because she's not. She may be similar in some ways, but I envision her to be quite different. **

**I also wanted to let you know that I've got a lot going on right now in real life so I'll update when I can, but I've been doing the whole "away from the computer" life thing for a couple of days and I'm about to do it for a few more. I just wanted you to know that I didn't disappear, I'm just up to other things. I'll be back when and where I can.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think! **

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"So you still ain't gonna talk ta me? That's just how we gonna do this now?" Daryl asked, coming into the kitchen while Carol was starting dinner.

Carol looked at him. She wasn't even sure where he'd gone. She'd figured he was off sulking somewhere because he seemed to consider himself the most wronged at the moment simply because she wasn't sharing with him her feelings on the information that she'd recently acquired and hadn't even begun to fully digest yet.

"I'm going to talk to you, Daryl," Carol responded, "but right now just isn't the time. I have to get supper going and I just...I don't even know what to say and I don't want this to end up being some kind of discussion with Sophia just in there. I just don't think it's the right time."

"Did you talk ta her?" Daryl asked. "Where's she at?"

"She's in her room," Carol responded with a sigh. "And I talked to her, but I don't know what to say to her either. You told her the situation, the one that I can't even...you told her and I don't know how much is too much for her. I just thought she might want to rest. I thought she might want to unpack and eat dinner. She might want to think about things and settle in."

Carol continued to shuffle things about and to get the dinner ready that she'd had planned, even though now she worried that it wasn't enough food or it wasn't good enough for Sophia.

"I can't even imagine what it must be like for a fourteen year old to find out all of this," Carol said.

"I'm sorry that this is so much for both of ya, but I just sorta found all this out too. I mean I didn't know about her neither, not for sure," Daryl responded.

Carol held up her hand to stop him from talking.

"We'll talk about it later, tonight after dinner if you want, but I really can't right now," Carol responded, turning her back entirely on Daryl to end the conversation for the moment.

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Sophia would have almost thought that it was a joke when she was told that she was being placed, no less than in a house that was looking to take permanent custody of her until she came of age, except that few of the women that ran her house had been given to joking and even less when it concerned potential adoption.

For some of them, adoption was something they saw as only a matter of time. For others, they saw it as something temporary since they were taken home and returned so often that they barely said their goodbyes anymore. For others still, they'd cling tight to dreams of parents they'd never seen or very nearly forgotten, or of relatives whose names they'd never heard or couldn't recall that would one day magically appear out of nowhere, sorry for the time they'd wasted, and take them home to lives that probably didn't exist and would never really be theirs.

Sophia couldn't really say that she had clung to any of those beliefs. She'd read enough books to know that's where most of the pretty stories were. They weren't real. She'd thought herself an orphan, and not one of the extraordinary and accidental ones either, just a common orphan that had ended up in a home because both her parents were dead. It wasn't a romantic story and it didn't keep her warm at night the way that some things the other kids believed seemed to do for them, but it seemed like the most logical story to her.

And as far as being chosen for families went, it had been some time since she'd imagined herself being chosen. There were a number of criteria that people seemed to have for the children that they chose. Younger children were preferred, boys over girls often times, and then if you were older there were things expected of you to be chosen, especially if you didn't want to be returned with some explanation given, true or otherwise, as to why you just weren't right for one household or another.

Sophia had never been taken to any household, at least not as far as she was aware, and even though she listened carefully to the "lessons" taught by one person or another on how to act and how to speak to find a home and stay there, she'd never really thought too much about the possibility that she'd end up going anywhere. She'd almost thought she'd probably just stay at the home until she was old enough to leave and then she'd accept the help offered to her to find a place to live and a way to afford it. She never seemed to be chosen, and she'd come to think that she never would be chosen.

And it had been some time since it had really hurt her feelings. She'd come to terms with it much more than most of the kids who seemed destined to remain in the home did.

Yet here she was, suddenly caught up, or so it would seem, in a conglomeration of the various daydreams of the others she'd grown up around.

When they'd first told her that she'd been specifically chosen by a family, that had been hard enough for Sophia to believe, and when they'd said that this family hoped to adopt her, it had seemed even more bizarre, but now she'd met the people that were to be her adoptive parents and the story they told seemed almost too amazing to be true.

They wanted to adopt her, yes, but in addition, the pretty woman that would be her adopted mother was, apparently, her birth mother…a creature that seemed almost mythological.

Sophia sat on her bed in the little room and thought about the whole thing, everything that the man, Daryl, had told her.

Somehow this woman, Carol Ann…her mother, might not remember too much about her birth. She might not remember much about her at all. He'd said it was because she'd been in a place, something like where Sophia had grown up, but Sophia doubted that was the case. She hadn't forgotten too much about her life at all, though even thinking that to herself made her laugh out loud at her own thoughts.

Maybe she had forgotten it, and maybe she simply didn't remember that she'd ever known it to begin with.

Still, this woman seemed nice enough in the short meeting that Sophia had with her. She seemed warm, but sad, and Sophia hoped she wasn't the one to make the woman sad.

Sophia hadn't ever really imagined what it would be like to have parents, though she had read a good number of stories about people with all kinds of families…big ones, small ones, good ones, bad ones…and she'd sometimes liked to daydream about what it would be like to placed in one of those kinds of homes and to have an actual family of her own. But she really saw those kinds of things for what they were, daydreams. And daydreams were something she'd been scolded once or twice for being prone to since that made you, apparently, aloof and that was undesirable for a good number of the people seeking children.

They wanted you to be quiet, but not aloof. They wanted you to be present, but not opinionated. Seen and not heard, that was the rule of thumb.

If you wanted to earn a family, and you wanted to keep it, you would be well behaved, polite, and helpful. You would learn to fit into their family instead of expecting them to adapt to you. And you didn't want to be too aloof because that could, apparently, be quite annoying and they would figure that you would never make anything of yourself because your head was in the clouds.

And if you were a girl? You couldn't make a very good wife and mother with your head in the clouds…and everyone who had heard that at the home had to take it at face value since very few of them had seen an actual wife and mother in action before.

Still, now that Sophia had this potential to have a family with a father and a mother, whether or not the woman was actually her birth mother or this was some strange delusion that the couple held, she was anxious to try to hold onto it. It wasn't something she was likely to get the chance at again if she messed up and got herself returned, so that meant that she had to do her best to exercise every "lesson" she'd ever heard from anyone about how to make these things work.

And if she'd made the woman seem so sad, already she was off to a bad start perhaps.

There was maybe something she could do about it, though. Hopefully it wasn't some kind of problem that couldn't be remedied.

Truth or not, Sophia liked the idea of the woman as her birth mother. Though she was curious to find out if it was truth, and if it was, she was curious to find out more about the whole thing. It seemed, to her, like it had the potential to be a very interesting story.

Sophia unpacked her things, few items admittedly, and then she settled down on the bed, not feeling ready to explore the house in case it wasn't really fitting for her to do so. She figured, at the moment, that the best thing to do would be to wait until dinner time. She would eat whatever she was served, declare it to be the best of that she'd ever eaten, whether it was true or not, and try to at least observe her new "parents" a little more.

She could play whatever game it was that they wanted her to play, and she could go along with whatever it was that they wanted her to go along with within reason.

After all, she didn't have anything to lose, and even if she didn't have all that much to gain at the end of it all, she was curious to see what it might be like to live in a family, no matter how odd they might be.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Here we go, another chapter here. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl got in bed at least half an hour before Carol had finished her preparations for the night.

It was evident that even if he'd done what he'd done with the best of intentions, Carol wasn't of the mindset that what he'd done was the best thing he could have chosen.

The worst of it was that he didn't even know where to begin to make it up to her, even though he'd spent all of his time eating supper in some kind of gnawing consideration about what would be best and how to handle the situation.

Sophia didn't seem, unless she was a very good actress for a girl of fourteen, to be too severely bothered by the situation at hand. She'd eaten her dinner in relative silence, complimented Carol on her cooking, and she'd offered to clear the table, though Carol had told her that she didn't need to do it and insisted on doing it herself.

But Sophia hadn't really talked much, and Carol hadn't talked much, and Daryl felt like he certainly didn't have anything to say at that point. It was all too out of his league at this point.

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"Sophia?" Carol asked, knocking gently at the bedroom door that was cracked. She pushed the door open just slightly. "Can I come in?"

"Yes ma'am," Sophia responded.

And when Carol did push into the room, she wasn't sure what Sophia had been doing, but the girl walked from the middle of the room, where there was really nothing to have entertained her, and got into her bed, the lamp beside her bed lit.

"I brought you some warm milk," Carol said. "I didn't know…I thought you might not be able to sleep well and something warm at night helps me when I can't sleep. I just thought you might like it. I brought you a clean towel for tomorrow, too."

Sophia nodded at her and Carol put the towel on the dresser. She came over to the bed and offered the girl the mug of steaming milk. Sophia accepted it and thanked her quietly.

"May I sit?" Carol asked.

Sophia sipped from the mug and nodded at her.

"With respect, ma'am, it's your house," Sophia responded. "I think you can do whatever you like."

Carol laughed to herself at the response.

"I meant that I don't want to invade your space," Carol responded. "I don't want you to feel like I'm too…present, I guess."

Sophia smiled.

"I like it," Sophia said. "You can sit."

Carol sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the little girl in the lamplight while she nursed the mug of milk.

"You're not drinking any milk?" Sophia asked.

Carol raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"You said you drink it when you can't sleep," Sophia responded. "Are you going to sleep well tonight?"

Carol smiled softly.

"I don't know," she responded honestly. "But I'm going to try. I'll get some later if I can't sleep."

"Is it me?" Sophia asked.

"You what?" Carol asked, seeking clarification for whatever was concerning the girl, the line between her eyebrows evident.

"Is it me that's going to make it difficult for you to sleep?" Sophia asked. "You don't want me here?"

Carol felt her stomach turn slightly.

That wasn't the case at all. She wanted the girl there. This was her daughter, and she wanted to do whatever she could do for the girl. If anything, it would be her guilt that kept her awake. It would be her guilt over having not been there before and her guilt over not really knowing what to do now. But Sophia's presence wasn't something that would keep her awake in itself.

Carol shook her head.

"Sophia, I want you here," Carol said. "And I want you to have whatever you want…whatever you need out of life. I just know that…"

Carol broke off with a sigh.

"What is it?" Sophia asked. "What do you know?"

Carol looked at her and shook her head again. She mustered up the best smile that she could put on and moved instinctively to smooth the girl's hair or touch her, but she pulled back before she made the movement and stroked the bed cover instead.

"You're just a little girl," Carol said. "There's no need for you to worry about things. Everything's fine, and I'm thrilled to have you here. I really am."

Sophia put the mug on the bedside table and shifted around, sitting up even straighter in her bed and taking on an expression that Carol couldn't quite read, but suddenly she didn't feel like she was looking at a fourteen year old girl.

"Then why do you seem so sad?" Sophia asked. "I'm fourteen, but I'm not dumb…with all due respect."

Carol almost laughed at the awkward addition of the words. It sounded like a learned response, like some kind of religious call and answer. It was clearly something the girl had been taught to say, probably because she didn't always speak with "all due respect".

But she did seem a little wiser than Carol gave a fourteen year old credit for being, and she did seem genuinely interested, so Carol thought she might offer the girl something.

"I'm not sad because you're here," Carol offered. "I'm sad, I guess, because I haven't been there for you. And…I'm not a mother. I'm not sure that I know how to be one. I guess that I'm just sad because I don't know if I know how to be your mother."

Sophia considered it for a moment, twisting her lips up at Carol. Then she smiled, her nose crinkling slightly.

"Well," Sophia said, "You brought me milk, and that seems like a mother thing to do, don't you think? I haven't ever had a mother before. I suppose I'll be learning to have a mother while you're learning to be mine?"

Carol smiled and nodded, unable to speak at the moment for the lump that rose up in her throat at the idea.

She got up quickly from the bed, trying to suck in air to push the lump down without being too obvious about it.

"Would you like me to tuck you in?" Carol asked. "Or are you too old for that?"

"Am I too old for that?" Sophia asked, chewing her lip.

Carol thought that she looked like she was really trying to figure out the answer to that. And Carol didn't know what the real answer might be.

"I don't know," Carol answered honestly. "But…I won't tell if you won't."

Sophia smiled and shifted around, sliding down in her bed. Carol arranged the covers around the girl, tucking her into bed the same way she tucked in Andrea's children when she was over at their house near bedtime and someone requested that she tuck them in.

Carol held her breath and leaned down, kissing Sophia's forehead softly, and brushed her hair back.

"Goodnight?" Carol said when she stood up. "Sleep well?"

Sophia stared at her.

"You too?" Sophia responded.

Carol switched off the lamp and felt her way out of the room, stopping a moment in the living room to sit on the arm of the couch and get control of her emotions before she attempted to go to bed and have any sort of conversation with Daryl about everything.

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"Just stop bein' mad at me a minute an' try ta see what I'm sayin'," Daryl protested from his side of the bed.

Carol looked at him with her lips so tight together they'd very nearly disappeared. He hadn't ever seen her eyes look at him so coldly.

"I thought you had a kid an' it was dead," Daryl continued when it seemed clear that she was going to hear him out, or that she at least wasn't going to respond. "When we got married, you was just barely rememberin' your fiancé and everything you remembered was bad. But you didn't remember this kid and…what good was it gonna do to tell you that you had a kid that was dead?"

Some of the hot anger on Carol's face faded, but she still looked bothered.

"And all the time we've tried for a baby?" Carol asked. "All the time that I've spent worrying that I could never have one? That there was something wrong with me? All the doctors?"

Daryl shook his head at her.

"The doctors knew," Daryl said. He hated the sound of the admission coming out of his mouth. "I told 'em, and they still said the same thing. They said you could have children, they said you were healthy. They didn't change nothing they had ta say."

Carol sucked in her bottom lip and chewed at it for a moment.

"You could tell them, but you couldn't tell me? Not even to just…" She broke off and shrugged dramatically. Daryl worried that she was on the verge of tears. "Not even just to…ease my mind?"

Daryl swallowed back his own feelings. He shook his head at her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so damn sorry…an' I know I screwed up. I didn't know what you would do. I didn't know how you would act."

Carol stared at him a moment and then nodded her head slowly and deliberately. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Well, now you know how I would act," she said. "I'm sorry that you didn't feel that you could tell me what you seemed to be able to tell everyone else. It must have been hard on you to live all these years with…"

She got up suddenly and walked toward the wall, starting something of a pace with her back to him. He called her name to get her attention and she held her hand up to stop him.

After a moment she turned around.

"I'm sorry that you have had to live your life with someone who was so...unpredictable…that you couldn't even tell me the truth about myself," Carol said.

She turned then and walked out of the room and Daryl followed her through the darkened house as she made her way toward the bathroom and went through the medicine cabinet.

"What are you doin'?" Daryl asked.

Carol stopped in front of the medicine cabinet with a bottle in her hand. She looked at it and then held it up to Daryl.

"I have a headache," she said. "I'm taking something for my headache. Am I allowed to? Or is that too extreme for a headache? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything about it. Maybe I should have kept it to myself."

Daryl could feel the bite in her words. He stepped forward and caught the hand that had the bottle in it. She released the bottle to him and he shook out some of the pills into his palm and offered them to her. She took them, but she wouldn't look at him. He watched as she washed the pills down with water from the bathroom faucet, caught up in her hand, and then she dried her hand and mouth with the hand towel.

"I'm sorry," Daryl said. "I really am sorry, an' I hope that one day you gonna let me make it up to ya, that'cha gonna stop bein' pissed at me."

He shook his head at her.

"I love you," he said. "And I've loved you since I damn near laid eyes on you. Last thing I wanted was to hurt'cha…but I guess that tryin' not ta hurt you, I done just that."

"I love you too," Carol said with a sigh. "I do, and you know that. But I feel like I don't know myself, and I feel, too, like I don't know you, not entirely."

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head slightly at her, just enough to validate her feelings on the subject.

"Maybe we both still got things ta learn," he said. "But…I hope you're gonna give me a chance to learn 'em, and you ain't gonna up an' be done with me."

Carol nodded softly at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Carol said. "Not physically…and even though I don't know what happened before, even though I don't remember what happened, I don't think that I'm going anywhere mentally."

Daryl sucked in a breath and let it out, her words and her softer tone of voice reassuring to him. She was mad, or she was hurt, but she was going to get over this.

He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away just a little, but then she came back toward him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him, and rubbed her back with his hands.

"I'm not goin' nowhere neither," he responded. "You be mad if you gotta, but we gonna get through this…an' now we got us a kid ta worry about. We gotta look out for her."


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Here you go, another little chapter.**

**The muse has been stuck here. It's not that I don't know where I want to go, rather it's simply been finding the urge to go there. I'm trying to get back to this one some, though, and start things rolling here again. **

**For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!**

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Sophia came into the dining room from where she'd been in her room reading one of the books that she'd selected off of Carol's bookshelf. She found Carol sitting at the table, white envelopes spread out in front of her and a good deal of what appeared to be cloth patches laid out to the side.

Sophia cleared her throat as she approached so that she wouldn't run the risk of startling the woman who had so kindly made her breakfast and given her access to her bookshelf to make a selection.

When she made the noise, Carol looked up from where she was writing on a notepad. For a second she seemed to be focusing on Sophia and then she smiled.

"Hi sweetheart," she offered softly. "Can I get you something? Are you ready for lunch?"

Sophia shook her head and croaked out a "no ma'am" before Carol reached across the table and tapped the surface with her hand directly in front of a chair. Sophia took that as her invitation to sit and she went and arranged herself in the chair.

"What are you doing?" Sophia asked.

Carol smiled.

"I'm thinking about some dresses that I plan to make," Carol said. "Some of my clients come to me already knowing what they want, but some of them are a little more adventurous. So I make dresses that no one's ordering in my size. I make some for my sister in law for our expectant mothers. Then, when they come and see us wearing them, sometimes it does something to sort of push them into deciding that they might want them."

Sophia smiled.

"That sounds smart," Sophia said. "Do they even know you're doing it?"

Carol shook her head.

"I don't think so," she said. "I didn't even know it was happening at first. I just liked the different dresses and I liked…I don't know…the challenge of sewing the new ones. Then I noticed that whatever I would wear, some would order."

Sophia looked at some of the envelopes spread out on the table showing different styles of dresses. Some were even illustrations of women wearing pants. Sophia pointed to one of them, and got Carol's attention.

"That's not very proper," Sophia said.

Carol smiled.

"Aren't they great?" She asked. "I'm going to make some of those too."

"And Daryl's going to let you wear them?" Sophia asked, wrinkling her brow.

Carol laughed lightly and nodded with some enthusiasm.

"Daryl doesn't notice things like that," Carol said. "And he doesn't stop me from wearing whatever I want to wear. Would you like some dresses? He's gone today to see about getting you in school and I thought that I could make you a few dresses to wear. You could choose your pattern and your cloth. Anything you want and I'll make it for you."

Sophia felt a little overwhelmed by the concept and the amount of choices available to her. It was dizzying since most of their clothes at her old home had always come in bulk deliveries, all the same, and were handed out according to size, each person receiving the size just up from what they wore so that they had "room to grow".

"Anything?" Sophia asked.

Carol nodded.

"Anything you like," Carol said. "I can make any of them. And I have some more too, if you don't see anything here that you like."

Sophia shook her head.

"No…there's plenty here," she said, not wanting the woman to get the idea that she was simply so demanding that she couldn't even find anything in the pile of options that she was being given. "It's just that really there's too many. What do you like? What's a nice dress? I don't want to choose something that's too complicated."

Carol smiled and looked through the patterns.

"The complicated ones are the nicest," Carol said. "They're always my favorite ones."

She offered Sophia an envelope.

"This one, for a girl your age? This is probably my favorite one," Carol said.

Sophia examined the dress. It was a very pretty dress. It was one that she couldn't imagine having for her own at all, less likely having as a dress that she might wear on a regular basis.

"It's too nice," Sophia insisted, shaking her head.

"No!" Carol declared. "Not for you…I could make you three of them if you wanted them. Just tell me what colors you like and I'll make them. And I can make you new underclothes too. Anything you want…anything at all…and I can make it."

Sophia looked through some of the cloth pieces that Carol had and chose one of the pieces of fabric that she liked the most. It was a rich purple, almost blue, and Carol smiled at it.

"I love that one too," Carol said. "I have three dresses made out of that one…Daryl hasn't noticed that they're different and he calls them all my purple dress."

Sophia laughed at that.

"Are you sure it's not too much?" Sophia asked.

"It's not too much at all, Sophia," Carol said. "It's not nearly enough, so it's certainly not too much."

The smile faded somewhat from Carol's face as she pinned the cloth to the pattern.

"I'll need your measurements," Carol said. "I can have this done in a few days…it won't take too long."

"Thank you…Mama," Sophia offered, seeing the change in the woman's countenance all of a sudden.

Carol looked at her as though she'd been spooked, her head jerking toward her quickly. Her expression was an odd one that Sophia had no idea how to read, so she immediately worried that she'd overstepped her boundaries and that Carol hadn't been sincere about telling her that she could call her that if she wanted to use the word.

"Is that alright?" Sophia asked softly.

Carol stared at her a second longer and then she nodded.

"It's just fine," Carol said. "I told you. You can call me whatever you're comfortable with."

Sophia smiled.

"With all due respect," Sophia started, remembering what Miss Margaret had always told them about being polite and respectful, "I'm not comfortable with calling you anything yet, but I thought that if I were going to get comfortable with something, then it's just as reasonable to get used to calling you that as it is to get used to calling you something else only to want to change it later."

Carol offered Sophia a soft smile that wasn't entirely sincere and she nodded.

"You're a very smart girl, Sophia," Carol said.

"Thank you," Sophia said.

She'd been told she was smart more than once, but she'd also been told that she was "too smart" and that could be abrasive at times. In fact, it had often lead her to never be sure if it was a compliment or a curse when someone said it to her.

"Can I ask you something?" Carol asked.

Sophia considered pointing out that Carol was allowed to ask or demand anything of her that she was inclined to ask, but she didn't say anything. She figured that Carol's need to ask that was more of a formality than anything else. She simply nodded instead of making any comment to her new mother.

"Who taught you to say 'with all due respect'?" Carol asked.

"Miss Margaret," Sophia responded. "She said that people don't appreciate some of the things that I say and that they aren't the kind of comments that show the respect that I owe them…so I should say that to let them know that if I haven't made a good decision in saying what I chose that I didn't mean to be offensive. Rather, it would let them know that I meant respect but I wasn't good at thinking through the things that I should say."

Carol shook her head and reached across the table, tapping Sophia's arm with her finger.

"You don't have to say it here, not anymore," Carol said. "I expect you to be polite…and I expect you to be respectful…but I don't think that you would be anything else. You're free to say what you want within reason, and you're smart enough to know what's reasonable or not."

Sophia nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "Mama," she added, testing to see if the second use of the word was more smoothly received than her first pronouncement of it. Carol's expression didn't change as drastically that time, so Sophia assumed that it was simply a case of her having to get used to hearing the name, just the same as Sophia had to get used to saying it. "What should I call Daryl?" Sophia asked after another moment.

"What do you want to call him?" Carol asked.

Sophia shrugged.

"Is he a Daddy or is he more of a Father?" Sophia asked.

Carol laughed to herself.

"I think Daryl is more of a Daddy," Carol said. "He's not really a Father type. I think he'd find that odd."

Sophia smiled and nodded, turning the new names over for herself.

Carol swallowed audibly.

"You'll meet the rest of your family soon," Carol said. "You'll meet everyone. We thought you might like a few days to settle in with just us, but when you're ready, we'll have everyone over for you to meet. You'll meet your Aunt Alice, Aunt Melodye, Aunt Andrea, your Uncle Merle, and all your cousins."

"Can I ask _you_ something?" Sophia asked after a moment.

Carol nodded.

"Why don't you have any more children?" Sophia asked. "I mean, really, why didn't you?"

Carol shrugged and shook her head.

"Sophia," she said, "Daryl and I have wanted to have a baby for…years. And we've tried everything, we really have. Do you really want to know this?"

Carol paused and Sophia nodded.

"Yes ma'am," Sophia said. "I'm not in the practice of asking questions that I don't want to be answered."

Carol nodded.

"Sophia we really wanted a baby," Carol said. "And doctors have said that we could have one, but there's just been no baby for us. And…I think…I've spent years angry…with God or with myself or with…I don't even know who…"

Carol stopped, sucked in a breath and shook her head slightly, obviously getting the composure that she was starting to let slip.

"I thought that it wasn't fair that I couldn't have a baby. I thought we'd be wonderful parents. I thought I'd be this incredible mother," Carol continued. "But now? I don't think we have any children because I haven't really deserved it."

Sophia eyed her oddly.

"Why do you say that?" Sophia asked.

"Sophia," Carol said, "I'm so sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you, but I've been your mother for fourteen years and I haven't been a good one at all."

Sophia barely knew Carol, admittedly, but already she couldn't stand to see the expression on her face. She didn't want the woman to suffer, and she certainly didn't want her to suffer for something that Sophia felt like she couldn't entirely understand.

Sophia wasn't angry with Carol and she wasn't angry with Daryl. The whole situation still seemed like something she'd read in one of her books, almost a fairy tale instead of reality, and she didn't feel like she would have been angry if she'd come and found that the situation was the same except that they'd had other children.

After all, she hadn't known about them, and they hadn't known about her. She'd lived her life for fourteen years, and she couldn't expect anything different from them.

"Have I been a bad daughter?" Sophia asked.

Carol looked at her oddly.

"Of course not," Carol responded, her voice changing octaves.

Sophia shrugged.

"I've been your daughter for fourteen years," Sophia said. "So if I haven't been a bad daughter, you haven't been a bad mother."

Carol smiled and shook her head.

"I wish it was that simple," Carol said.

"Maybe it is?" Sophia asked.

Carol got up from the table definitively.

"I'm going to make us some lunch, OK?" Carol asked. "Is there anything I can get you or anything I can do for you first?"

She turned toward Sophia expectantly and Sophia wished she had requests for the woman because they seemed to be so important to her. She didn't really have anything that she wanted at the moment, though, and she already thought that the dresses offered her were more than she had expected.

Sophia stood up from the table.

"No ma'am," she said.

"Sophia," Carol started, "I really mean it. I want you to let me know anything that you want. Anything that you've ever wanted and never got. I want you to have those things. Please, don't be scared to ask me for them, OK?"

Sophia searched her mind for a request, feeling that it might do Carol some good if she were to make one. Finally she nodded at Carol and outstretched her arms.

"Could I have a hug?" Sophia asked. "I never had many of those…"

Carol smiled and came over, wrapping her arms strongly around Sophia and pulling their bodies together in a warm embrace. Sophia sunk into the hard hug and enjoyed everything about it. She nuzzled her face into Carol's chest without even thinking about it. She might not have a lot of requests for the woman, and maybe she'd have more in the future, but for the moment she was pleased with this, and she suspected that Carol might be pleased as well.


End file.
